A Different Path
by Towa-no-Yami
Summary: Previously 'What If'. What if there had been no Blight when Lilith Cousland joined the ranks of the Grey Wardens? How would she have coped with her new role when free of the pressure of saving the entire country?
1. Chapter 1

_**Summary:** What if there had been no Blight when Lilith Cousland joined the ranks of the Grey Wardens. A look at how she would have coped with her new role when free of the pressure of saving the entire country._

_**A/N:** I'm back with another DA:O story and an idea that's been floating around my head for months. I'm a fan of AU stories, however, I think it's something that's quite difficult to do with Dragon Age, so, I thought I'd give a semi-AU story a go. Basically, I wanted to write a short, multi-chapter story to show my character, Lilith Cousland, settling into her new life in a more relaxed environment. I'm not sure how often I'll be updating, but hopefully it'll be fairly regularly. Oh, and this will be a Cousland/Alistair story. Hope you enjoy it!_

_**Disclaimer:** I do not own Dragon Age: Origins or any of its characters (just my Lilith Cousland) and receive no profit from this story._

The sun was just beginning its descent towards the horizon as Alistair returned in the direction of the ancient Grey Warden compound, buried, nearly invisible to those who don't know its location, in the forest just outside of Denerim. It had been a largely uneventful day, as were most of the days spent among the confines of the compound; breakfast, training, lunch, more training, dinner and then free time was the routine that most Wardens ritualistically fell into. In fact, the highlight of his day had been finally beating Dwennen in a sparring match. It was an achievement he was rather proud of, as the older, much more experienced man had a nearly spotless unbeaten record.

The massive grey battlements of the compound had just come into sight when he stopped, a befuddled expression contorting his features, as he noticed what appeared to be a young girl perched precariously on the edge of one of the high walls. As he stood there, unnoticed, the girl slowly lifted her head towards the ever-darkening sky, her face displaying an expression of pure reverence, as if uttering a silent prayer to the Maker. Then, a small, sad smile crossed her face before she opened her mouth and began the most enchanting song that Alistair had ever heard.

'_Wow'_, he thought, utterly stunned, _'She has the voice of an angel.'_

As she sang, he observed her properly, starting by examining her legs that were swinging carelessly, heedless of the pained, yet calm, expression that contorted her face, while she chanted her beautiful melody. His eyes then worked their way up her lithe body, noting how relaxed she seemed as she sat. Finally, his gaze came to a stop on her face once again, only this time, as she brushed her short hair out of her eyes, he couldn't help but notice how those pure white tresses that framed her thin face perfectly reflected the last remaining vestiges of the day's sun, giving the appearance of a halo.

'_Maker's breath! She really is an angel.'_

As he was observing her so intently, he failed to notice that her song had finished. However, it became obvious to him when she lowered her head, unknowingly upsetting her observer by hiding her face from his mesmerised view, and reached up to wipe away the tears that were falling freely down her cheeks. The Grey Warden shifted his weight from one foot to the other, the firewood in his arms suddenly seeming much heavier than it had before. The girl's head shot up at the sound of a twig breaking beneath his heavily armoured boots, her eyes suddenly becoming impassive and losing all emotion. He stared up at her, his mouth flapping like a fish out of water as he tried to think of something to say. However, before he could come up with anything even remotely coherent, the angel leapt effortlessly down from her seat upon the wall and back into the confines of the keep, but not before shooting him a look that, if it could have, would quite easily have killed him on the spot. For half a minute, he remained rooted in place, staring up at the place where she had been seated, feeling as though he had just witnessed something from beyond the Veil, before heaving a heavy sigh, shifting the weight in his arms and carrying on towards the place he called home.

'_Maybe I should talk to Duncan'_, he mused to himself, _'ask him if seeing things is all part of the taint. Then again, I'll probably just get that _"You'll see" _crap again.'_

Nevertheless, as he made his way towards the gate at the front of the compound he determined to ask his mentor about the strange experience.

xXx

After depositing his load in the atrium and changing into a simple pair of linen pants and a tunic, the junior member of the Grey Wardens set upon his task of searching out the Commander of the Grey. However, as he happened to pass by the dining hall, he heard the sound of enthused chatter, as well as the enticing smell of the night's meal, wafting from within, reminding him, and his now protesting stomach, that it was nearly time to eat.

Suddenly feeling ravenous, he changed his course and headed for the large wooden doors that led into the vast refectory. After all, at meal times, one was never likely to find a Grey Warden anywhere but at the dining table. The scent of roasted pork and potatoes hit him like a wall as he opened the doors and he immediately started scanning the room for any sign of the older Warden, hoping to find him quickly in order that he might get to his meal more quickly. He nodded to the other Wardens that greeted him as he passed them by, however, he could see neither hide nor hair of Duncan.

Concentrated on his task as he was, he nearly jumped out of his skin as a heavy hand fell onto his shoulder, accompanied shortly by the sound of Duncan's voice.

"Ah, Alistair, there you are." He stated. The fact that he was searching for Duncan who was searching for him was not lost on Alistair, however, he did not see fit to bringing it up.

"Something you need, Duncan?" He asked cheerily, realising that, whatever it was, it was probably more important than discussing his otherworldly experience.

"Yes," he started simply, "I'd like to introduce you to our newest recruit." Duncan smiled, seeming quite pleased with the news he had to share. After all, recruits were few and far between with the Grey Warden's reputation still recovering in Ferelden.

"You found a volunteer?" The younger man asked, astounded. As far as he knew, Duncan had simply travelled to Highever in order to visit his childhood home.

Duncan turned around and beckoned someone over, announcing as he did so "Let me introduce you to Lilith Cousland. Child," he said, addressing the young woman standing behind him, "this is Alistair, the junior member of our order." He finished with a smile.

Alistair stood dumfounded at the sight of the angel from his vision standing before him. Her ethereal beauty was only enhanced in the dim, flickering light of the large fire at the end of the room and the many candelabras that adorned the walls, again giving her the appearance of a spirit from the Fade. The girl shot Duncan a look that seemed to speak volumes of her dislike at being called a 'child', however, she made no comment. Turning her piercing blue gaze towards the younger of the two men, she looked him straight in the eye and Alistair could almost swear he saw something of a challenge in those eyes. _'Probably wondering if I'll say something about before.'_ He mused, as she continued to stare at him and he at her. Finally, her gaze faltered, her eyes losing some of their hard edge and her countenance relaxing somewhat, as if glad that she had found no sign of anything distasteful in his eyes. Then, in that sweet, melodic voice that had held him entranced just half an hour before, she simply said, "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

'_Oh, so now she's being polite!'_ Alistair fumed inwardly. Nevertheless, he felt his resentment seeping away as she smiled sweetly at him and gave a small courtesy as a sign of respect. Somehow, she gave off an air of refinement, something that was rather lacking in a room full of burly Grey Wardens and he couldn't help but wonder how she would fit in.

"Ah," he started awkwardly, trying to remember the lessons in etiquette that Arl Eamon had made him sit through, "the pleasure is all mine." He finished, as he proffered his hand towards her by way of greeting, feeling quite proud of himself for sounding so composed. The girl, Lilith, he told himself so that he would remember, didn't seem equally impressed, however. She laughed as she held out her relatively dainty hand to grasp his much larger one, evidently amused by his attempts to seem as gentlemanly as possible and he found that he couldn't help a smile of his own at the sound of her gentle, and for once, in his experience, not mocking, laughter.

'_Cousland,'_ he mused to himself, as he let go of her hand and she was introduced to some of the others around the table, _'Why does that name sound so familiar?'_

It didn't take long for him to remember the importance of the name and with the knowledge that Cousland was the name of the Teyrn of Highever's family, Alistair was only more perplexed by the arrival of the newest recruit. _'It's not every day that we get nobles signing up for the penniless life of a Grey Warden.'_ He thought, wondering about the circumstances surrounding her signing up. _'Perhaps Duncan evoked the Right of Conscription,'_ he considered thoughtfully, _'though I can see no reason why he would go so far.'_

From outward appearances, Lilith Cousland didn't seem to be much of a warrior; her build was slight, her stature small and from the lingering feel of her cold hand against his, he was sure that they were not calloused from swordplay, as his had been for almost as long as he could remember. As the protests of his stomach woke him from his deliberation and he started for his seat in the middle of the table, he determined to keep an eye on her progress, somehow sensing that she would make an interesting addition to the Warden's ranks.

_**A/N:** So, I hope you enjoyed my little foray into AU. Thanks for reading and please leave a review to tell me what you think. Any constructive criticism is very welcome. That way I can try and make the next chapter better for you guys. Thanks again!_

_PS. I already hate the title of this story, but I'm crap at coming up with them, so, it'll have to do._


	2. Chapter 2

_**Summary:** What if there had been no Blight when Lilith Cousland joined the ranks of the Grey Wardens. How would she have coped with her new role and what relationships would she have forged when free of the pressure of saving the entire country._

_**A/N: **__Oh, I've had such a stressful day today! And quite a stressful week in the lead-up to today, come to think of it. I was hoping to update this story some time last week seeing as it was half term, but, I was busy, busy, busy and just didn't seem to get any time to myself to write. So, I'm gonna start writing now seeing as it's just me and the kitty-cat. Oh, before I forget, the new title is courtesy of _"ItSMeAmbeR"_ who gave me some wonderful suggestions in her review. If there's one thing I hate about writing stories, it coming up with titles, so thanks again.__ Onwards to the second chapter!_

_**Disclaimer:** I do not own Dragon Age: Origins or any of its characters (just my Lilith Cousland) and receive no profit from this story._

The ceremony of dinner continued much as it always did on Lilith Cousland's first night with the Grey Wardens. There were plates piled high with, as all but the noblewoman herself would agree, good food and ale and conversation flowed freely, with much of this conversation initially being aimed at the newcomer. The other Wardens asked many questions of the youth, hoping to glean some details about her past from her answers, however, they were met with an impassive brick wall. She, of course, remained perfectly polite and civil, as she had always been taught to do whilst growing up, giving answers that seemed to reveal sufficient information when, in fact, they were mostly just evasions and after a short time passed it became evident to her interrogators that she simply desired to eat her meal in peace, a fact that they attributed to fatigue from her journey.

Being the new recruit, Lilith had been seated between Alistair, in the hopes that she might feel less intimidated by the junior member of the order than any others, and Duncan, with whom she was already well-acquainted from their days of travelling. When not evading the questions posed to her, and in turn the painful memories that they dredged up, she sat quietly at the table, picking through her meal and giving the vast majority of it to her Mabari, who sat faithfully at her side. Now and then, she would take sips from the flagon that had been placed on the table in front of her, immediately scrunching up her nose in disgust at the distasteful liquid that it held. Being brought up as nobility, it was not seen as proper for a young lady to drink such beverages and while her brother, father and any male guests that may have joined them drank heartily at mealtimes, her mother and herself always received a glass of wine to accompany their own repast. Upon taking another sip of her ale, the room went quiet as, unbeknownst to the lady in question, all present watched her intently. A bought of good-natured laughing broke out when, having swallowed the swill, she scowled at the potent liquid as if it had in some way wronged her.

Confused by the sudden outburst of laughter, Lilith finally lifted her gaze from the evil drink and realised for the first time how ridiculous she must look. Upon seeing the warm smiles on the faces of the men around her, she couldn't help but join in their laughter and, after the humbling experience of humiliating herself, she partook in an amicable conversation with her companions.

xXx

After eventually finishing her meal, Lilith stood to excuse herself and retire for the night. However, Duncan, who rose with her and placed his hand gently on her arm, halted her retreat.

"Tomorrow morning," he started, his voice dropped low and his face unusually grave, "you will have to partake of the Joining."

"The Joining?" she asked, worried by his dark countenance and, as she now noticed, that of all the other Wardens in the room.

"It is an ancient ritual that all recruits must undertake if they are to become Grey Wardens," he explained, continuing quickly when he noticed that she was about to interrupt, "I cannot reveal the details of the ritual, however. It has remained a secret to outsiders for generations."

"What do you need of me?" she asked hesitantly, though trying to maintain a steady voice.

"When you rise in the morning, you are not to go to breakfast. Instead you should make your way to the Ceremonial Chamber. I will be there preparing the ritual, but ask any of the others and they will be able to show you way."

She nodded slowly, already feeling nervous about what this 'Joining' could entail. _'Why would they go to such lengths to keep it a secret?' _she wondered apprehensively, _'Unless it entails something horrible, like blood magic.'_ The thought made her shiver unconsciously; she had never seen a mage before, but, like all children, had been told the cautionary tales and had learned of demons and abominations from her lessons with Aldous.

Noticing her obvious discomfort, Duncan dismissed her, assuring the evidently nervous girl that there was no need to worry and instructing her to get a good night's sleep.

Weary as she was from her days of travelling, she imagined she would sleep the moment her head hit the pillow and though it was a marked improvement from resting on the cold earth, she found her mind ablaze with questions and trepidation about the coming day. Nevertheless, the necessity of sleep after the long days since she had left her home eventually overcame her anxiety and she slipped into a deep slumber, once again haunted by that fateful night that had passed just six days previous.

xXx

The sunlight that shone through the bare window managed to illuminate almost all of the relatively small room that was to be Lilith's sanctuary for the foreseeable future. Rolling over with a 'huff', the somewhat disgruntled young noblewoman vaguely wondered how she had forgotten to close the curtains the night before, her eyes immediately shooting wide open as she registered this thought. She took in her surroundings: the bare brick walls, the curtainless window, the plain, moth-eaten blanket that covered her and the somewhat lumpy mattress on which she lay. This was not Highever, this was not her home, but waking up in a room not entirely unlike her own had fooled her for a second and all of the pain that had slowly started to seep away suddenly buffeted her at full force at the realisation that the past week had not been some terrible nightmare. Her family was gone, her home was invaded and today she was to become a Grey Warden by some unknown and doubtlessly awful Joining Ritual.

She slowly edged out of bed, wincing as her bare feet touched the freezing stone floor. Noticing a full basin in the corner of her room, she crept towards it, still feeling somewhat groggy from sleep. However, one splash of the ice-cold water that the basin held washed away all remnants of her sleepy state of mind, making her suddenly very aware of just how cold it was in her room. _'My room,'_ she thought, absentmindedly as she dried her now soaked face and body,_ 'I suppose I'll have to get used to a different way of living now.'_

Having completely dried off, she surveyed the room properly. It was bright and the dark walls didn't seem nearly as oppressive as they had when she first saw them the night before. During her observation, she noticed the pile of linen tunics and pants that Duncan had bought her during their detour to the Denerim market district. They had managed to find a cloak to hide her identity in one of the smaller villages along the way, however, Duncan affirmed that they would need to do some shopping if she wanted to be able to wear clothes that actually fitted. At first, she had objected, telling him that her appearance was of no import and that she would be willing to wear whatever was available. However, having seen the size of the men that made up the Warden's ranks, she was glad that Duncan had been so insistent. She would have looked like a child had she been forced to walk around in whatever spare garments she could find in the Compound and she certainly didn't need any help in adding to that illusion; she was already small enough for people to make that mistake.

After dressing quickly, she exited her room to make her way downstairs, hoping to bump into someone who would be able to take her where she needed to go. Still, she didn't expect to literally collide with someone much larger, and therefore much steadier, than her the moment she opened the door. From her new position on the floor, seated on her, now, rather sore behind, she looked up to see the man to whom she had first been introduced the previous night, _'Alistair'_, she reminded herself, looking down on her with an expression that she was sure must have matched her own perfectly.

"Sorry!" he yelped, having regained his senses and pulled her back onto her feet as if she weighed nothing more than a rag doll.

"That's okay," she replied, laughing at the extremely guilty expression he wore and wiping down her newly soiled garments, "I'm sure I'll live."

Alistair flinched at her phrasing, moving out of the way of the door so that she could pass. _'We can only hope so.'_ He thought, morosely.

"So," she started, turning to look at the blond with a serious expression, but mirth dancing in her eyes, "Care to tell me _why_ you were standing right outside the door to my room? It's a bit odd, don't you think?"

She laughed that same melodious laugh that she had the night before at the sight of his suddenly enflamed cheeks, as he stumbled to explain himself. "Oh, well, it's not what it looks like, I swear. I'm not some pervert or anything." He rushed, trying to come up with something more coherent to say as she just stared quizzically at him, "Duncan! He, err, he sent me to find you. For the Joining, you know?" He finished weakly.

"Oh," she said after a short silence during which he was sure she would accuse him of something deranged, "Alright then. Lead on." She finished, cheerily.

Although she said it, she seemed to have no interest in letting him lead her to their destination and she continued walking ahead of him, unknowingly giving her companion time to ponder. Alistair watched her lithe form as she almost skipped down the corridor, her trepidation from the night before seemingly forgotten. He felt he couldn't quite figure her out: one minute she was glaring daggers at him and the next she was laughing at him without any sort of malice. He was startled from his thoughts as she quietly called his name.

"I wanted to apologise for yesterday," she started, turning to face him and piercing him with her startling, azure eyes, "I must have seemed pretty rude glaring at you the way I did and then just acting like nothing happened during dinner. It's just that, I _really_ wasn't expecting anyone to be there and I certainly wasn't expecting you to be staring at me. I was… startled, that's all, but that's no reason for the way I acted, so, I'm sorry." She blurted out, never taking her gaze from his face.

"That's okay," he replied weakly, feeling slightly baffled by her outburst, "I'm sorry, too. I realise I must have intruded on some private moment. I really didn't mean to."

A wave of sadness seemed to wash over her face before she turned and continued down the corridor. Knowing that there was an upcoming fork in their path, Alistair hurried to catch up so that he could show his companion the way. However, he was unable to stand the somewhat uneasy silence that settled between them.

"It was a beautiful song." He stated absentmindedly, thinking without delay that he might have, once again, said the wrong thing. However, contrary to his expectations, Lilith was smiling when he next looked at her.

"It's an old lullaby," she stated, a faraway look etched into her beautiful eyes, "Mother used to sing it to me every night when I was child."

"Well, here we are." He stated dynamically, pointing out a large, ornately carved door.

"This is the Ceremonial Chamber?" she asked, her apprehension returning ten-fold. The only answer she received was a firm nod, as the current junior member of the Grey Wardens pushed open the heavy door and gestured for her to enter.

Slowly, she made her way into the dark room. She noticed Duncan standing next to a large stone altar and cautiously observed the oversized chalice that stood alone on the tabletop.

"Well then," Duncan started, his countenance dark and his voice grave, "Shall we begin?"

At this signal, Alistair slammed the heavy wooden door back into place, plunging the room further into the gloom that encompassed it.

_**A/N:** Dun dun duuuuun! That ending sort of turned out too sinister, but, oh well, it's all in the name of tension. I was originally going to write the Joining, but, everyone who's played the game knows exactly what it's all about and all I'd really be doing is putting the game's visuals into words, so it doesn't seem worth it. This is also quite a long chapter for me, but I suppose that's because it is just sort of waffly and wordy. Anywho, I hope you enjoyed it. I know that it wasn't particularly eventful, but the next chapters should actually contribute something to the story, so, please don't give up on me. Right then, thanks for reading and please leave a review to tell me what you thought!_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Summary:** What if there had been no Blight when Lilith Cousland joined the ranks of the Grey Wardens. How would she have coped with her new role and what relationships would she have forged when free of the pressure of saving the entire country._

_**A/N: **Yay, I'm back again! And much quicker this time. First off, I want to thank everyone who has added this story to their favourites or to their story alerts and also people who have added me to their favourite authors! It really, really means a lot to me, so thank you sooo much! Erm, I haven't really got a lot to say about this chapter, except I wrote it in a few sittings and each time I reread it I noticed a couple of mistakes, so, if you spot any more, could you please tell me and I'll sort them out. Okay, hope you like it!_

_**Disclaimer:** I do not own Dragon Age: Origins or any of its characters (just my Lilith Cousland) and receive no profit from this story._

Gossamer eyelids gently fluttered open, revealing the azure irises that lay hidden beneath, a protected treasure like the pearl concealed within an oyster, before retreating again from the blinding light that filtered through the window. Everything seemed calm to Lilith as she lay in bed, however, she couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something wasn't right. She tried to think on it, but it constantly evaded her, like the distant but somehow familiar memory of a quickly fading dream. The more she concentrated, the more confused details she started to recall. She remembered the darkness of the Ceremonial chambers; she remembered Duncan handing her an ornate chalice; she remembered the feel of the blackened ichor burning its path towards her gut; she remembered pain like she'd never felt before; she remembered the feeling of her skin peeling away from her bones; and she remembered her screams as she was engulfed in fire.

A gentle voice tore her from the dark path that her mind was travelling, bringing her back to reality. "It is good to see you awake, child." Duncan stated, a warm smile stretching his somewhat haggard features as he moved towards the end of the bed, "You had us all worried."

"How-" she attempted to speak, but found her parched lips and dry mouth were not conducive to conversation. Silently, she accepted the jug of water that Duncan offered her and drank greedily of it, before starting again, "How long was I asleep?" she questioned, noting how stiff her joints had felt as she lifted herself into a seated position.

"Almost twenty-four hours." Her mentor stated, matter-of-factly.

"A day?" she questioned, her eyes widening in astonishment and her jaw hanging slightly slack, a most unladylike expression, she was sure.

"Come, child," Duncan started calmly, slightly amused at her astounded look, "Breakfast is just starting; you should eat something. Unless, of course, you don't feel up to it." He added as an afterthought.

"Surely you jest? I could quite easily eat you!" Lilith returned laughingly, slowly lifting her exhausted body from the all too welcoming embrace of her warm duvet.

The newest member of the Grey Wardens was slightly stunned when a gentle laugh rumbled past Duncan's lips and a true smile alighted his dark eyes._ 'He's been so stoic since I first met him,'_ she thought, _'it's nice to see him really smile for once.'_ She briefly wondered if the Wardens deliberately distanced themselves from new recruits until they had passed their initiation. _'Surely it must be difficult to attempt to acquaint yourself with someone whom you know could quite soon perish,' _she reasoned.

As they made their way downstairs, towards the refectory, Lilith vaguely wondered how different her life would be now. She was still mourning the loss of her home and family and was certain she would never truly make peace with it unless she fulfilled the final vow that she had made to her father. However, her parents had also made her promise that she would live her life and that she would not let the events that had transpired engulf her very existence. She had the chance at a fresh start and though she had felt somewhat uncomfortable around the other Wardens on her first night, she was determined to make the most of the opportunity that was afforded her. _'I will not fail you… Not again.'_ she swore, looking up at the ceiling as if she could see straight through it to the sky above.

The smell of porridge had never seemed so enticing as at that moment, when Duncan pushed open the doors to the dining hall and allowed her to enter. She felt her stomach protesting fervently to its lack of sustenance as the delicious aroma grew stronger, however, she stopped dead in her tracks as a loud cheer sounded from the men who were already seated at the long table in the room. She looked towards each of them, noting their smiling faces and their drinks held high in salute, and looked back towards Duncan, who wore that same smile as before. She couldn't help but feel overwhelmingly happy at that moment; for the first time in what felt like eternity, she truly belonged.

xXx

The sound of wood clashing against wood echoed throughout the walled garden of the compound, as all present watched in awe as the junior member of the order effortlessly parried the attacks of one of the most experienced, each spectator heartily cheering on their favoured participant. With the dexterity that came from wielding two weapons came swift, graceful movements. Lilith was neither warrior nor rogue, but a seamless mix of the two: when she could, she danced fluidly around her opponent, evading the strongest of his attacks, but this was not out of weakness and when his thrusts came too fast, she simply accepted them, using the momentary opening in his defences to strike back.

The two had been sparring for some time now and most of the other Wardens had gathered to watch as the match progressed. Alistair, now relieved of the position of 'Baby Warden', as some of the others liked to call him in order to rile him up, stood amongst the crowd of those that had congregated around the training ring, his rapt stare focused solely on the graceful motions of the young noble's lithe form.

"Quite a fighter, isn't she?" The man that stood to his right pronounced, jabbing him sharply with his elbow and breaking him from his reverie, "I've never seen a fighting style like that."

The blonde just stared blankly at him, not really registering what had been said until the man to his left interjected, "Oh, of course, Garrod," he started sarcastically, a leery glint in his eye, "I'm _sure _it's her technique he's admiring so intently." The thin, almost gangly, elf finished with a wink in Alistair's direction.

"Oh," Garrod spoke again, dragging out the syllable as if realisation was dawning upon him, "Is that how it is?" he questioned, tipping a wink of his own, "You've got a crush on her!" he stated, somewhat too loudly and too smugly for the blonde's liking.

"What? No! I- I just-" Alistair finally spoke, fumbling over his own words.

"It's alright, lad," the man to his left, Nate, said, slapping his hand heartily onto, a very flushed, Alistair's back, causing him to stumble slightly "When you get to a certain age, it's perfectly natural to start noticing beautiful women." he finished, causing the two men to burst into laughter.

Alistair opened his mouth to defend himself, however, his attention was immediately drawn back to the match, temporarily forgotten in his flustered state, as a loud grunt was sounded from the middle of the ring. He turned just in time to see a wooden practice sword flying to air and falling to the ground several metres away. Meanwhile, Lilith slipped fluently behind her opponent, reaching up and bringing her own practice sword into contact with the soft flesh at the man's jugular.

"Do you yield?" she asked confidently, her voice hoarse with exertion. An exuberant smile spread across her face as the man simply nodded. Ever modest in defeat, the man, when released, turned to shake the girl's gauntleted hand, offering her words of warm congratulations.

She removed the helm that was an insisted-upon part of all sparring sessions from her head, shaking out her short, pure white tresses and brushing them harshly from her face when they stuck to her sweat-glistened skin. Again, Alistair found himself enraptured by the sight of the woman he had known only a few days, as her ivory hair and soft skin once again caught the light of the early summer sun. Dirty, bruised and bedraggled as she was, she was still, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman the Templar turned Warden had ever seen.

As her opponent left and the crowd started to disperse, Lilith made her way over to the bench were she had left her hound, who had also watched her match intently, and a water skin. Alistair watched as she grabbed the Mabari's massive head between her hands and said something inaudible from his distance, though from the tone that she used and the happy barking of the dog he was sure she was using the type of speech that people usually reserved for smaller, less deadly animals. Clutching the chain in his pocket, he made his way to where she now sat, pouring some water into a dish for the dog before taking a long swig for herself. He couldn't explain why, but he felt incredibly nervous when he thought about talking to her. However, his apprehension quickly melted away when, upon noticing his approach, her face fell into an easy smile.

"Were you watching?" she asked, cheerfully, her eyes lighting up with glee like a child on her birthday.

"I think the whole Order was out here," he replied, smiling, indicating the area of the training ring with a sweep of his arm, "You were amazing," he continued, settling onto the bench next to her when she scooted over to make space. He was almost convinced that the flush to her face darkened at his words, as she coyly turned her head from him and avoided his eyes.

"It's just beginners luck," she said modestly, though it was obvious that she had appreciated the compliment.

An easy silence stretched between the two before the blonde remembered the reason he was seeking her out in the first place.

"Oh," he started, startling his companion slightly, "Here. Duncan asked me to give this to you." He finished, fishing the chain from his pocket and holding it out for her.

She crouched down slightly to the level of the pendant, clearly examining the contents of the teardrop shaped locket, "What is it?" she asked, looking directly at him with wide, inquisitive eyes.

"We call it 'Warden's Oath'," He stated solemnly, "We take some of the blood from the Joining and put it in this pendant in remembrance of those that went before and who… didn't survive."

She reached out to gently run her fingers across the cold glass of the necklace, observing with a sense of some wonderment how even the vile, viscous liquid that she remembered ingesting come look so beautiful in the light of day, as the bright rays of the summer sun passed through the dark liquid as it sloshed about. She found a deeper meaning than intended in the simple adornment: for her, this band was not really a reminder of those that hadn't survived the Joining, for she knew not of them. Instead, it would be a token to remind her that even when things seem at their worst, the light of a new day will reveal just how wonderful the world really is.

Having quietly watched her contemplation of the necklace, Alistair was startled when she suddenly straightened herself out and turned so that her back was facing him, as if he had said or done something wrong. However, he soon realised her intention as she uselessly attempted to sweep her short hair from her neck and turned to look at him over her lithe shoulder. Unclasping the necklace, he carefully threaded it around her exposed neck, before endeavouring to fasten it in place. However, after several unsuccessful tries, wherein he only managed to catch his own fingers in the clasp, Lilith tenderly took the two ends of the necklace from his hands and effortlessly fastened them together, leaving him to wonder why she had wanted him to do in the first place.

As she turned around to face him once again, a sweet smile once again playing on her lips, Alistair felt his heart begin to pound in his chest.

"Right then," she began, her grin widening and becoming much more impish, "Where are the kitchens? I'm starving!"

_**A/N:** This is another fairly big chapter, for me anyway. I didn't think it would be at the start, but it's nearly four pages in Word so, there you have it. My fingers just have a mind of their own sometimes, haha. I know in this chapter (and probably in others) Alistair kind of gets bullied, but, I'm sure the others aren't being nasty, it's just too much fun to get him all flustered! Anyway, thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it and please leave a review to tell me what you think!_


	4. Chapter 4

_**Summary:** What if there had been no Blight when Lilith Cousland joined the ranks of the Grey Wardens. How would she have coped with her new role and what relationships would she have forged when free of the pressure of saving the entire country._

_**A/N:** Right, I'm finally updating. I can't believe it's been exactly three weeks since the last chapter! I had a bit of difficulty in figuring out how to start this chapter. I knew where it needed to go, but I didn't know how to get there and I still don't like the start. I wrote it, then planned on deleting it, then read it and thought maybe it wasn't so bad, then wanted to delete it again, BUT, I can't come up with anything better, so, it'll just have to do. I promise you the end of the chapter is actually worthwhile, haha. Okey doke, I hope you like this chapter (or the end of it anyway!) and if you spot any typos or anything please tell me, I'm not a very good proof-reader._

_**Disclaimer:** I do not own Dragon Age: Origins or any of its characters (just my Lilith Cousland) and receive no profit from this story._

A week had passed since Duncan had abruptly announced that he was going to scour Ferelden in search of new recruits. However, he gave no certifiable reason for the impromptu decision, simply claiming that the Wardens' numbers in Ferelden were much too few.

Though it had been a largely uneventful seven days, the atmosphere around the compound was less than relaxed. Some of the Wardens had been undeniably on edge since Duncan's departure, fearing that his sudden desire to increase their numbers meant that trouble was on the horizon, though none had any suggestion as to how the Warden-Commander could possibly know such a thing. On the other hand, another portion of the order agreed fully with Duncan's sentiment: the Wardens of the other nations of Ferelden, even in times of peace, could claim to have at least twice as many men at their disposable, and considering their recent success in recruiting one Lilith Cousland, there was no harm in seeing if their lucky streak continued. The rest of the Wardens, however, knew not what to think and simply waited quietly for Duncan to send word.

With Duncan gone, Lilith, being the newest addition to the Warden's ranks, felt like she had somewhat slipped through the cracks. While the other warriors were eager to spar with her and help her with her training, their sessions always seemed to end too soon for the young Noble's liking, as her partner excused himself to take care of his duties. Conversely, the only order she had been issued since Duncan's departure was that she was to stay within the walls. Other than that, it seemed she was free to pass her time however she fancied.

At first, she had rather enjoyed this arrangement. She spent the mornings training, wandered the surprisingly vast gardens after lunch and sometimes retired to the library to read before spending the evening with her fellow Wardens. However, the tedium of her day-to-day life was starting to grow tiresome. Monotony had often been the routine of her day at Highever. The servants, the castle's guards and even her parents insisted constantly that she needn't bother herself with anything. But she had expected things to be different now; as she watched the hard work that the others conducted to keep things running smoothly, she knew she could no longer sit by. She would contribute to the management of the Keep and damn anybody who attempted to stop her.

It was with this newfound conviction that, having removed her armour and donned a more appropriate outfit, she made her way out of her room in search of anybody that she could cajole into giving her some sort of meaningful task to accomplish, her Mabari faithfully trotting after her. As she neared the bottom of the stairs, she eyed a rather short, but nevertheless well built, man heading in her direction. The man had a rather youthful face, even if his features seemed slightly crooked, but his greying hair belied his true age. She could only recall talking to the man once and only for a short time but she couldn't deny that she found something entirely off in his physiognomy,

"Ronin!" she called, moving to intercept the man's path as he neared the stairs.

"What can I do for yeh, lass?" he asked, his thick accent giving the question an unusual intonation.

"I'm bored out of my mind, Ronin!" she complained vehemently, "I demand that I am given something to do. No longer shall I pass my life in utter uselessness." She exclaimed haughtily.

She cut off the slightly baffled man before he could reply, assuming that he would deny her request, though she could see no reason that he should, "Please, Ronin," she whined, seeming much less confident than she had mere moments ago, "You are all always _so_ busy; there must be _some_ way I can help with the workload." She finished, turning pleading eyes up to the older man. However, her blue eyes turned to ice the moment the man started chuckling to himself, all of her ire and frustration beginning to bubble over.

Noting the deadly glares he was receiving, Ronin quickly checked his laughter. "Sorry," he started sheepishly, "'Course we'd love to 'ave some extra help, but Duncan said you'd probably want some time t'settle in before we started _demanding_ things o' you." His lips suddenly curved into a smile again as he added, laughingly, "Nobody wanted to be on the receiving end o' that 'noble indignation' o' yours." He finished, laughing heartily.

"Oh…" she stuttered, turning her head sheepishly from the man's face, embarrassed at her petulant outburst, "That was very considerate of you," she said, graciously, "but it is not necessary. I am a Grey Warden now and I intend to fulfil all of the duties that come with the title, even if it means I have to clean out the chamber pots." She finished with a smile.

"T'won't be necessary," he said, chuckling awkwardly as he was still unused to her sudden changes in demeanour.

"Thank the Maker for that," she replied, genuinely relieved that the man had not taken her seriously, "So, what can I do?" she asked eagerly, bouncing slightly on the spot in anticipation.

"Nothing."

Her jaw fell slack as she registered the word, causing Ronin to laugh raucously, "It's Sunday, lass. We don't do nout on a Sunday. Bu' don't you worry, we'll set you t'work tomorrow." He finished before sidestepping her and continuing on his way.

The long whine issued from her war hound only made Lilith feel even more deflated after making an fool of herself, yet again.

"Even you feel bad for me, don't you, boy?" she asked, as she dropped down next the great beast, taking his massive head between her hands and rubbing his ears. The same gloomy whine was her only response. "At least it was only one man this time and not the whole Order," she said hopefully, to which she received another whine, "I know, even I didn't believe that. These Wardens gossip like old fish wives." She conceded sadly, scratching her Mabari's head once more before standing and making her way to the gardens.

xXx

It was late morning and though summer was dwindling and bad weather was on the horizon, the sun still perched high above the Warden compound, spreading its warming rays across the verdant grass and many wildflowers that surrounded the grand building. However, Alistair failed to take stock of any of this as he entered the gardens in search of Lilith. He wasn't entirely sure _why_ he was trying to find her, as he had nothing of any particular import to say to her. Nevertheless, he felt that they had become friends during the time since her arrival and friends didn't need a reason to seek out other friends. At least, that is what he told himself, for his sanity's sake.

He had only known her a little over a week and first impressions had been less than fantastic, however, he readily admitted that that incident was mostly his fault and he found her faltering apology the next day incredibly endearing. He discovered that he enjoyed her company more than he had enjoyed the company of anyone before and though he had believed his life to be complete when he joined the Wardens, he now couldn't imagine what it had been like when she hadn't been there with her impish smile and quirky sense of humour.

He headed in the direction of the small, walled-off portion of the garden that had been a permanent fixture since a lesser noble donated the estate to the Wardens during the Glory Age. As he passed through the archway and into the garden proper, he was stilled by the sight before him: Lilith stood amongst the luscious flowerbeds, filled with the same exotic variety of colourful flora that annually grew therein, her white linens, milky skin and even lighter hair making her a striking contrast against the deep hues of the blooms. He watched in awe as she spun around to glance at her hound, covering her mouth as delicate laughter bubbled past her lips at the sight of the dog, who was bounding happily through the long blades of grass, snapping his massive jaws at the passing butterflies.

Upon noticing his approach, she turned towards him, lowering her hand from her lips and waving him over. It was only as he neared her position that he noticed the flower that she had evidently threaded through one of the small braids that adorned her ashen hair.

"Lily?" he asked, conversationally, indicating the white blossom. He didn't fail to notice the tension that travelled through her body at the word. She simply hummed in agreement, refusing to meet his eyes.

Feeling slightly awkward and knowing not what else to say, he pressed on, "I've never liked lilies. The Chantry was always full of them when there was due to be a funeral and I've never quite shook the connection."

"Lilies are-" she started, before correcting herself, "_were_ my mother's favourite flower. She used to insist on filling the Castle with them and she always called me her little Lily." She finished quietly, a small wistful smile on her face.

Alistair was stunned; it was the first time she had ever really talked about her life before joining the Wardens and he couldn't help but notice the use of past tense. So deep in contemplation was he that he hadn't noticed when she reached down and plucked a small yellow flower from the ground. He was only disturbed from his reverie when she placed it softly behind his ear, her fingers seeming to linger as they grazed lightly against his cheek and jaw, before retreating back to her side.

"It suits you." She said approvingly, a warm smile on her face. The former Templar could feel the heat rushing to his cheeks, his skin still tingling from her soft touch as he stared into the clear depths of her eyes. Despite the smile that she wore, he could see great sadness in those azure orbs and though it pained him to break the tender moment that had just passed between them, his curiosity was too great to ignore.

"How, exactly, did Duncan recruit you?"

He watched quietly as she seemed to retreat into herself, as she had always done at any mention of her previous life. A myriad of emotions seemed to pass across her face and he could tell that she was waging an inner war against her own demons. What he couldn't know was that she was trying desperately to convince herself that she could trust this man, her fellow Warden, her friend.

Just as he was starting to believe that she would deny his quest for knowledge, she spoke up.

"We… we were betrayed," she started, her voice shaky and hoarse with unshed tears that were already glistening in her eyes. There was a long silence in which she seemed to retreat into herself once more, her breathing deep and steady so that she could maintain some semblance of calm, before she finally turned to face him.

Alistair's heart broke at the sight of the girl in front of him, her face crumpled in pain and silent tears cascading down her cheeks. She looked so small, fragile and he understood how hard it must have been for her to allow herself to show this vulnerability to anyone. At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to gather her into his arms and protect her from anything that would cause her this kind of pain, but he knew that he couldn't, and so he stayed still and silent as she recalled her tale.

"Arl Howe," she began, spitting the name out venomously, "was an old friend of the family. He and my father fought together during the Orlesian occupation and had remained close ever since, so when he arrived at the Castle unannounced, we thought nothing of it.

"I was awoken in the middle of the night to Maximus' barking," she continued, laying her hand upon the dog's head; her hound, as faithful as ever, had come to her side shortly after she had started talking, a sense of concern etched into his canine features, "just before three of Howe's men burst into my room.

"They killed everyone!" she cried, her voice breaking harshly as the tears began to truly fall, "My brother, his wife and my dear little nephew, Oren; Mother's friend, Lady Landra, and her son and lady-in-waiting; Our soldiers and knights; Even Mother Mallol and the sisters in the Chantry.

"Whe-" she started, her words becoming less audible as violent sobs racked though her body, "when we found my Father, he was all but dead. He'd been ran through while waiting for Mother and I to arrive. If we'd only been faster…" she trailed off as she felt strong arms wrap protectively around her torso. Alistair knew what the end of her sentence entailed and he couldn't stand by and listen to her as she blamed herself for her father's death. He thought that perhaps she might have pushed him away, but he was relieved when her small hands clutched frantically at the front of his shirt, her face buried against the fabric.

They remained like that for some time, Lilith's heart-wrenching sobs not lessening any as Alistair rubbed soothing circles across her back in an attempt to comfort her. When, finally, her tears turned only to soft sniffles, she spoke up again, her voice quiet and broken as she stared up into her guardian's amber eyes. With her final revelation, the true reason for her presence with the Wardens was finally made known.

"If it hadn't been for Duncan, I'd have died that night along with my parents. The Maker himself sent Duncan to Highever for a reason and so I swore fealty to his cause."

_**A/N:** Finally finished this chapter! I wasn't originally planning on ending it here, but, I think this is probably a good place to stop and I'll carry on with what would've been the rest of this chapter in the next one. Hopefully it'll work out to two decent-sized chapters instead of one incredibly long one that isn't updated for another three weeks, haha. Dog finally got a name in this chapter, yay! I watched Tangled at the weekend and that's my little homage to it. Other than the excessive amount of singing that I forgot was an integral part of Disney movies, I really love that film! Right then, I hope you enjoyed the chapter and please leave a review to tell me what you thought._

_Oh! I'm thinking of maybe writing a little companion piece to this chapter. Just a quick one-shot to actually tell, for the purposes of this story, the version of events that transpired on that fateful night. I'm not certain if I will do it, but, if I post it before this story's finished, I'll let you guys know. Okay, thanks again for reading! _


	5. Chapter 5

_**Summary:** What if there had been no Blight when Lilith Cousland joined the ranks of the Grey Wardens. How would she have coped with her new role and what relationships would she have forged when free of the pressure of saving the entire country._

_**A/N: **It feels like forever since I updated this story and I don't even know why it has taken me so long… probably because I finally got my own computer for Christmas, which is a bit of a distraction! However, it also means that I can finally play DA again, so, I'm feeling a bit more inspired than usual. Although I have been waiting for this chapter, I'm starting to worry that it might not actually work very well, but we'll see how it goes. Okay, I really hope you enjoy it and please, please, please leave a review at the end to tell me what you think. As always, constructive criticism is the only way I'll ever get better!_

_**Disclaimer:** I do not own Dragon Age: Origins or any of its characters (just my Lilith Cousland) and receive no profit from this story._

A soft breeze disturbed the quiet surroundings, rustling through the highest branches of the trees and brushing past the softly swaying blades of grass that comprised the verdant lawns. Alistair and Lilith sat apart on the soft grass within the walled garden, a pregnant silence stretching between them as Lilith gently stroked her Mabari's great head, the beast itself issuing forlorn whines at intervals, as if empathetic of his master's suffering.

Alistair was still reeling from his companion's revelation; He hadn't imagined that she would so easily open up to him and he certainly hadn't expected the morbid tale of death and betrayal that she had divulged. Upon first learning of her noble lineage, he had decided that the most likely reason behind her mysterious appearance was that she had ran away from home. In the past, the Wardens had been notorious for taking in court-weary nobles and as he had become better acquainted with her and her boisterous personality, his theory had seemed all the more prudent. However, now that he thought back on all of the brief mentions that she had made about her life at Highever, she had never seemed bitter or unsatisfied with it.

Since the moment he laid eyes on her, she had been a mystery. But now, she was uncloaked, laid bare in front of him, and having heard her tale of woe, he felt about as shaken as she looked.

His silent contemplation of how such an atrocity could even arise, never mind go unnoticed, continued for some time until her small voice spoke up from next to him.

"So, what about you?"

He looked at her quizzically, searching her face for any signs of continued distress and though her eyes remained red and puffy from her tears, he could see genuine curiosity embedded somewhere deep within them.

"What _about_ me?" he asked stupidly, not grasping the meaning of her question.

A small smile graced her delicate features at how slow her fellow Grey Warden could sometimes be, "What about _you_?" she repeated emphatically, "As in, how did Duncan recruit _you_?"

"Oh," he started, feeling slightly uncomfortable, as he always did when the subject of his past was broached, "There was a tournament for those of us who would be taking our vows soon." He couldn't help noting how her eyes lit up upon hearing the word 'vows' and realised he'd probably have to delve further than he cared into his past.

"Don't get me wrong, I didn't win or anything." He added as an afterthought, "In fact, I didn't even come particularly close to winning. _But_, Duncan said he 'saw something' in me, so, here I am."

'Maker, please let that be the end of it,' he thought desperately.

"Vows?" she asked inquisitively, instantly dousing his last flicker of hope.

"Yes, I was nearing the end of training to become a Templar when Duncan recruited me."

Instead of alleviating her curiosity, his answer seemed only to confuse her more. "If you had trained for so long to join the Order, why leave?" she asked quizzically.

Alistair sighed inaudibly, contemplating exactly how much it was safe to reveal. By now, the other Wardens had learnt not to ask about his past and it was not something he had had to discuss for a long time. However, when asked, Lilith had told him every detail that he could possibly want to know about her life, and a great deal that he would rather not have heard, and he thought it only fair to show her the same level of trust that she had placed in him. _'Though it's not as if I can tell her everything,'_ he thought, a slight amount of guilt creeping into the pit of his stomach.

"Well, truthfully, I hated it in the Monastery," he answered, "because the decision to go was made for me. You see, my mother was a serving girl at Redcliffe Castle and she died giving birth to me, so instead of sending me to an orphanage, the Arl took me in."

Lilith's arched eyebrows raised, her eyes widening in surprise, "You were raised by Arl Eamon?" she asked, taken aback.

"Well, not personally," he answered, chuckling softly at her astounded expression, "He left me to the care of the other servants mostly, but he came to see me often, despite his busy schedule.

"If he took you in so readily, why did he send you away?"

Alistair couldn't help smiling at how genuinely interested she seemed; sitting there, leaning slightly towards him, with innocent curiosity etched into her features, she seemed to him to resemble a child listening to a bedtime story, one that was perhaps a touch too stimulating to be conducive to a good night's sleep.

"Arl Eamon married a young Orlesian woman, Lady Isolde." He explained, spitting the name out distastefully, "She resented the rumours that pegged me as the Arl's son; they were completely unfounded, of course, but they were there all the same. When Isolde became pregnant, she finally succeeded in convincing the Arl to send me away and so off I was packed to the nearest Monastery, aged ten."

"And you were with the Chantry for all those years?"

"Pretty much. The others were allowed to return to their parents from time to time, the few that had them anyway, but most of us had nowhere else to go."

"I can't imagine…" she trailed off; clearly pondering what life locked up inside a Monastery would be like.

"It wasn't all bad," he added enthusiastically, trying to ignore the hint of pity that seeped into her words, "I rather enjoyed the training and what's more, I was actually pretty good at it." He finished with a half-smile.

"Besides, I don't think I'd be _here_ if I'd never been sent to the Chantry. Duncan said my talents would come in handy if we're ever faced with Darkspawn magic." He added as an afterthought.

Lilith couldn't stop the chill that crept up her spine at the though of facing such a foe; she had never seen a mage, nor had she seen a Darkspawn, but even she knew that the two combined would not constitute a force to be trifled with. However, her mind was quickly diverted by something else that occurred to her.

"Can anybody be taught these talents?" she asked enquiringly.

"Anyone who can summon sufficient concentration, yes." He answered, seeing the cogs turning in her mind, "But, no, I won't teach you." He stated bluntly.

The blonde couldn't help but laugh at the sheepish look his friend took on as she realised that she was so easily found out. "Don't worry, you're not the first one to ask." He assured her with a good-natured smile.

Her expression changed to one of mischief before she spoke next, he clear blue eyes sparkling with impish delight and her rosy lips stretching into a playful smirk.

"I'll just have to get you drunk and wheedle it out of you."

xXx

Many hours later, it seemed that the young noble's cunning plan had backfired completely as she was all but dragged up to her room by a rather disgruntled-looking Alistair.

By the time she sat down to dinner, Lilith had been exhausted. With the stress of the day, combined with a more rigorous training regime than she had ever received at Highever, knotted tightly into every muscle of her body, she had thrown caution to the wind and decided that, now more than ever, she truly needed a drink. And although the murky swill in her cup was not exactly what she would have asked for, she found the pleasant buzz that she received after emptying her first round was exactly what she needed to take some of the tension out of her body.

And so it was, that a relatively sober Alistair decided it was time for Lilith, having ingested almost as much ale as the most seasoned among the Order, to call it a night.

Alistair sighed heavily when, as he struggled to open the door to his companion's room while still managing to keep her upright, Lilith started to ramble again.

"Where's Max?" she practically shouted in her drunken slur.

"I've no idea," he said, thanking the Maker when the latch to the door finally clicked open and he could get a proper hold of the girl leaning all over him again, "Perhaps he was having too much fun downstairs."

She seemed to contemplate this idea for a moment as she stopped shortly past the entrance to her room, refusing to be moved any further. "I think he has the right idea," she whispered conspiratorially, "Let's go back downstairs!" she finished with a flourish, raising her fist into the air and nearly toppling backwards in the process.

"I think you've had enough fun for tonight" he said, laughing at her strange behaviour, "What you need is a good night's sleep to get all of this alcohol out of your system." He explained, trying to be as logical as possible so that he might convince her addled mind to comply. However, try as he might, she remained rooted to the spot, staring intently at his face.

"Oh, come on, Lil'", he moaned, "I promise that you'll feel better once you've slept. I'll even go downstairs and find Max for you, if you'll just-"

His words were cut off abruptly when his head was pulled down to her level and her soft lips crashed into his. He stood frozen for a moment, his eyes wide with shock and though he knew he shouldn't, though he knew that this was simply the alcohol blurring her judgement, he couldn't help but reciprocate as her hands snaked around his neck, delving into his short hair and pulling his mouth closer to hers.

His own arms, already wrapped around her from supporting her weight, unconsciously tightened their grip on her slender form and when her tongue slipped sheepishly into his mouth, he swore he was going to lose his mind. Her kiss was inexperienced, as he was sure his own was, but made passionate and almost desperate by the alcohol that coursed through her body and he responded in turn, suffering from a totally different type of inebriation.

When she finally broke away and disentangled her vice-like grip from his hair, she turned her azure eyes to his own amber orbs and the ex-Templar was sure he saw some sort of recognition dancing in the clear blue depths that had not previously been.

However, the spell was broken as she tore her gaze away from his and fell limply against his chest, quietly muttering that perhaps she should sleep. And, as Alistair soon realised, she intended to do so right there.

She whined pitifully when he tried to direct her towards her bed and so resorted to carrying her, bridal-style, further into the room. After successfully pulling back the duvet while resting most of her weight in one arm, and realising just how little his fellow Warden was, he placed her softly onto the hard mattress, pulling the coverlet up to her chin and watching as she snuggled into the pillow below her head.

"Alistair," she called out to him softly as he reached for the door, though her voice was still strongly slurred from the evening's activities, "thank you." She finished with a yawn, quickly falling into a deep slumber.

The blonde smiled as he shut the door behind him, feeling absolutely exhausted and hoping, for her sake and his own, that she wouldn't remember a thing when she woke up in the morning.

_**A/N:** I don't know why I had so much trouble writing this. Every time I sat down to do it I just couldn't think of anything even though I'd planned to do this chapter ages ago. I swear, the only time I can write is when I'm home on Thursday mornings and should be studying! But, anyway, it's done now! Hurrah! I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. And I know I say it about five times every chapter, but please leave a review! I really want to know what you guys think!_

_p.s. I've no idea when to expect the next chapter, but hopefully it'll be quicker than this one. Okay, thanks for reading!_


	6. Chapter 6

_**Summary:** What if there had been no Blight when Lilith Cousland joined the ranks of the Grey Wardens. How would she have coped with her new role and what relationships would she have forged when free of the pressure of saving the entire country._

_**A/N:** First of all, I want to send a massive "Thank You!" to everybody who reviewed, faved and alerted (or whatever that verb would be) after the last chapter and the same to any lurkers out there, hehe. I really appreciate all the support that you guys have given this story; It really means the world to me. So, onto business. This is the first chapter I am going to write, even in part, on my new computer, simply because it's on and I feel like writing now. However, I think if I keep having to flit between the PC and the family laptop, it may make for even more of a delay on the next chapter, so, if so, I apologise in advance. Also, after so long using a laptop, it's weird typing on a proper keyboard, so typos may be rife. I'll try and fix as many as I can and if you spot any, please tell me. Righty-ho, let's get on with it!_

_Okay, I know this is a massive Author's Note, but, I've just been reading a chapter of my KKM story and I feel like it was so much better written than any of the chapters I've written for this and I'm suddenly feeling a little down. I can't understand how my writing could've gotten _worse _with practice; It's not supposed to work that way! *Sighs* Anyway, the point of this is that I'm going to attempt to improve my writing from now on and if anyone's got any hints, they'll be very much appreciated. I really need to get back to my older style of writing, because I want this story to be a good read! Right then, let's get on with the story now._

_**Disclaimer:** I do not own Dragon Age: Origins or any of its characters (just my Lilith Cousland) and receive no profit from this story._

A large, heavy fist came down three times against the thick wood of Lilith's bedroom door, the ungodly sound, which could be heard almost throughout the whole of the compound, violently rousing her from her alcohol-induced slumber. The young Noble bolted upright in her bed and grimaced, clutching her throbbing head and vociferously cursing whoever or whatever was the source of such an offensive sound as the one that she could quite acutely feel pounding between her ears.

"Come on, princess!" she heard a rather gruff-sounding voice call out from the other side of the door, "Time to get up, lots to do."

She merely groaned in response, not daring to make any more noise than was absolutely necessary, and was mildly relieved when she heard heavy footsteps moving away from her door. Her head still buried in her hands, she ventured to peek out into her room, but the intensity of the light rendered her barely able to see as her eyes started to sting viciously and her vision became decidedly blurry. The pain in her eyes only worsened the pounding in her head and she flopped heavily back onto the hard bed, only to find that even that movement made her world spin around her.

As she lay there for a few moments, her senses, at length, began to return and she realised that, although the light coming in from her uncovered window suggested that she _had_ remained in bed much later than normal, she had never before been disturbed from her sleep by her fellow Wardens. That they had awoken her today could mean only one thing: something was afoot of which she needed to be aware. And so, with that realisation and no small amount of difficulty, Lilith pulled herself into a sitting position once again, before endeavouring to get herself onto her feet. Again, her world swam uncomfortably around her, but the feeling of nausea that accompanied the sensation faded quickly and she made her way to the basin in the corner of the room to wash herself.

She stopped short of dunking her hands into the icy water when she realised that she was still fully dressed in yesterday's clothes. _'Maker, what did I do last night?_, she wondered of herself, as her hands began to shake nervously, _'I never sleep in my clothes.'_ It was an aversion that had come about one particularly frosty winter during her childhood, when her mother had insisted upon her covering herself up properly for bed lest she should "catch her death of cold". She was placed in the stuffiest set of pyjamas her mother could find and tucked tightly into bed, covered in enough blankets and duvets to keep an army warm for the night. It was around this age that she had begun to suffer, almost nightly, from nightmares and as she thrashed and rolled about in her bed that night, she somehow became ensnared in all of the layers of clothes and coverlets that had been forced upon her. She awoke that way not hours after having gone to bed, trapped in the pitch black of her cotton cocoon and shaken by the ordeal of her nightmare. She tried valiantly to break free, wanting nothing more than to run to her parents as she did every other night and have them soothe her weary mind back into some much-needed rest, but try as she might, she remain encased and it was not until morning, many hours later when her mother came to wake her, that she was finally released from her self-made prison.

Though not exactly a chrysalis emerging in some new form, Eleanor found her daughter much changed that morning. Having been trapped all night, too afraid to succumb to the call of sleep, Lilith was in much distress and despite the best wishes of her mother, her anxiety and over-exertion had brought on a violent fever, which kept her bed-ridden for some weeks. Even now, Lilith could not think back on the night without feeling shaken; the claustrophobic conditions, coupled with her disturbing dreams, had brought to mind the idea of being buried alive and she had felt helpless with the knowledge that she could barely move her limbs. Irrational as it may be, her childish logic had blamed her predicament on the fact that she had been made to wear full pyjamas, as opposed to the loose nightgowns that she usually donned for bed, and it was some months before she could even sleep soundly in her traditional nightwear. To this day, the Noble had always preferred to sleep in her smallclothes, only dressing herself in something warmer on the coldest of nights, when duvets, a roaring fire and the warmth of Maximus next to her were not enough.

Presently, she noticed the distinct lack of her hound's presence, a rare occasion for he was almost always at her side, and as she distractedly washed her face, tried to remember the happenings of the previous night. _'I remember alcohol'_, she thought, pulling a face at the memory, _'lots and lots of alcohol.' _However, she soon discovered that she could draw no more details from her still rather addled mind and decided not to dwell on it. _'I'm sure if I did anything truly mortifying I will find out soon enough.' _

The thought wasn't a particularly comforting one.

xXx

Having quickly dressed herself and still feeling rather tender, Lilith made her way out of her room to find out what was going on, as she was convinced that there was something, despite the fervent applications of her stomach that breakfast should be the first thing on her agenda. Upon opening her door, she almost tripped, but caught her balance at the last moment, over the sleeping form of Max, who had evidently been waiting by her door all night. At this rude awakening, the dog yawned sleepily and looked expressively into his mistress' eyes. She leant down beside him, scratching his head and saying, "I'm sorry, boy, did I lock you out last night?" in the sweetest voice she could muster. The mabari barked at her, rolling onto his back to expose his stomach and after a quick scratch, it seemed all was forgiven.

Upon descending the stairs, she immediately entered the refectory, where it seemed the entire Order had convened and was awaiting her arrival. She mumbled an apology to Brennan who, having been a Warden for almost as long as Duncan and therefore taking charge during his absence, stood at the head of the assembled group, and bowed her head ashamedly as she joined her fellows, feeling like she always did as a child when she turned up late to one of Aldous' lessons.

"I've gathered everyone here," Brennan began, in a voice that, to Lilith at least, sounded markedly grave, "to inform you all that we have received word from Duncan and to relay to you the contents of his letter. I will be brief," from what Lilith knew of the man, he could be little else, "there is a Blight upon us."

Spirited talk broke out among the assembled Wardens, some of them claiming to have known about it since Duncan's departure, others simply staring into space with an expression of someone who has just taken a physical blow, but as the newest Warden looked around the room, not knowing what to think or how to feel about this new information, she saw a look of steely determination in the eyes of every last man around her and bolstered her courage. She was not going to be the weak link.

"Duncan says that the King's scouts have spotted an amassing horde of Darkspawn in the Korcari Wilds to the South." Brennan continued, effectively quieting the talk of the others, "The army, and Duncan himself, are making their way to the fortress of Ostagar, where we will make our stand. The King requests the Wardens' presence as soon as possible. We will leave in three hours." And with that news, he left the room to prepare.

Though somewhat shaken by the news, Lilith decided that now was not the time to mull over its implications. She had slept late and felt like she hadn't eaten in days and as some of the other Wardens started to leave the dining hall, she started towards the kitchens to retrieve some much-needed food. On her way, she passed Alistair, who was seated at one the tables towards the back of the room. As always, her friend couldn't hide his emotions and Lilith saw a look of complete bafflement plastered across his handsome features. Empathising with him, she placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, hoping to be of some comfort, but when he looked into her face, he could only smile weakly at her, completely at a loss for words. She, too, could think of nothing to say to diffuse his anxiety, for it was not misplaced, and settled for smiling back at him, though the expression felt forced even to her.

As they remained looking into each other's eyes, she was struck with a sudden memory: looking dazedly into his warm eyes; running her fingers through his golden hair; his strong arms wrapped around her, pressing her close; pulling him towards her and pressing her lips against his own; a moan escaping him and sending shivers of delight coursing down her spine.

She could feel her cheeks, her whole being, becoming enflamed as she recalled their shared kiss and from the sudden look in his eyes and the distinct pink hue appearing on his cheeks, she knew that Alistair could read her just as she could him. Unable to look him in the eye any longer, she dropped the hand that had rested on his shoulder back to her side, turned tail and ran for the kitchens.

xXx

Alistair sighed as he tentatively settled himself down onto the ground, his body aching after the long hours of marching in armour that felt distinctly more uncomfortable than the last time he had wore it. He had been relieved when the order had finally been given to set up camp for the night and had immediately taken the opportunity to shed his heavy plate in favour of a loose tunic and breeches, however, despite the towering fire that now burned brightly in the centre of the makeshift camp, the blonde couldn't suppress the chill that was slowly creeping into his bones.

Not having heard any approaching footsteps, he jumped, startled, as somebody placed themselves in the spot next to him and was even more surprised when, upon turning, he was greeted with the sight of Lilith, her chin resting on her knees, which she had pulled up to her chest.

Since the incident following Brennan's abrupt announcement, Alistair had had the distinct impression that his fellow Warden was avoiding him. He tried many times throughout the course of the day to strike up a conversation with her, but each time, she made some excuse to move away from him, or simply ignored him altogether. Feeling slightly miffed at his supposed friend's behaviour, he decided to turn back to the fire, refusing to acknowledge her presence.

He failed to notice Lilith turn her fair head towards him, eyeing him cautiously out of the corner of her eye. She noticed him staring into the fire, clearly refusing to meet her gaze, however, his expression was strained and she wondered vaguely what thoughts were running through his head. She had been so mortified after she had remembered the events of the previous evening that she had taken great pains to avoid him during the day, and though, at the time, she thought that she was being subtle, she inwardly cringed at the realisation that she had been anything but.

Slowly looking around the camp, she noticed, with great relief, that most of the men were elsewhere and only a few remained, far on the other side of the fire. She gathered her wits and decided that it was time to make amends.

"I'm sorry I kissed you." she stated, quietly but firmly. It was her turn to stare into the crackling flames as Alistair turned to look at her, slightly dumbstruck by her abrupt manner of addressing him, though he told himself he should be used to her character by now. He watched with great interest as the light of the embers danced across her pale skin, casting deep shadows in places, while lending a warm hue to others, the trick of the light working to accentuate her delicate features. His mouth went dry as he watched her and he couldn't summon the will to speak. She decided to take his silence as an opportunity to explain herself, but she could think of no logical reason for her actions; At the time, she had simply wanted to kiss him and, with her inhibitions lowered, it had seemed like a perfectly reasonable plan. All day she had tried to decide whether she would have done anything differently, had she not been inebriated. She couldn't know it, but he was equally as confused as herself as to the feelings that had been stirred up.

"And I'm sorry I've been avoiding you all day." she continued, turning, with a nervous smile on her face, to look into his eyes, which were still transfixed in watching the light play across her skin. The young Noble was struck by the intensity of her companion's stare: there was a warmth, a heat, in his amber orbs that she had never seen before and that, try as she might, she could not fully reconcile with the influence of the flames which reflected so strongly in those dark depths.

Something stirred within her as she studied his features, some new feeling arising from the core of her body as her eyes trailed down from his own, taking in his well-carved cheekbones and eventually coming to a rest on his slightly parted lips. She wet her own, her mouth suddenly feeling parched, and felt a strange satisfaction in his reaction to such a simple gesture: the darkening of his gaze as his eyes moved to watch her tongue's agonisingly slow progress along the lips that he remembered all too well.

She wanted him to kiss her again. There was a bitter chill in the night air and she could feel the heat radiating from his body, could remember it from the night before when she had been pressed so close to his toned chest, and she wanted to be closer to it, to be held in his arms and to feel safe, to feel the security that she had felt when he comforted her in the gardens.

The return of some of the others startled the couple out of their joined reverie. Both blushing furiously, Lilith turned her gaze back onto her knees, while Alistair returned to his fervent contemplation of the fire. When those who had returned settled themselves, Alistair cleared his throat awkwardly, attempting to break the silence that had fell between them.

"It's okay... by the way." He muttered, not able to meet her gaze, but not failing to notice the small smile that played on her lips.

xXx

Some hours later, after a hefty meal had been issued to all present, Lilith's small voice piped up from next to the ex-Templar. "Can I ask you a favour?" she asked, somewhat hesitantly.

Alistair only hummed his acquiescence, feeling much to content after so thoroughly sating his appetite to form a coherent reply. "Can I borrow one of your shirts?" she blurted out unexpectedly, trying, and failing, to stifle a laugh when the blonde started coughing violently, nearly choking on his own tongue.

"What?" he managed to croak out, staring at her with widened eyes and causing Lilith to laugh once again and repeat herself as if it was the most rational thing that she could possibly have asked.

"Why?" he asked, apparently scandalised by the very notion. Although there was a perfectly logical reason behind her strange request, at least to her mind, Lilith couldn't help enjoying the reaction that it elicited from her friend, relishing in any opportunity to tease him. However, as the night was progressing rapidly and she was sure that they would need an early start in the morning, she decided that now was not the best time to pursue that particular hobby of hers.

"Well, I didn't exactly have time to pack any nightclothes when I came to the Wardens," she started, her playfulness suddenly vanishing from her face as she thought back to the night of her escape from Highever, "and I can't sleep in the clothes I'm wearing now, so I was hoping I could use it as a nightdress." she stated, looking into his face earnestly.

"Wh-what do you normally sleep in?" he questioned rather too loudly, catching the interest of some of the other men who had not yet retired for the night. He blushed when she just looked at him expressively, quirking an arched eyebrow by way of an answer.

"Oh," he answered meekly, turning his gaze to his hands and feeling his cheeks suddenly enflamed, "Well, why can't you just sleep in your clothes? Surely your brought more than one set and you can always wash them." he rambled, desperately trying to find a way out of the embarrassing situation.

"It's not about the clothes, per se," she replied, trying to find a way to explain herself, "it's just... It's complicated. Please Alistair, I know it's rather strange, but, I wouldn't be asking if it wasn't important." she continued, feeling uncomfortable under the scrutiny of the pairs of eyes that watched the two from across the camp.

Struck by the sincerity of her plea, Alistair sighed before reaching into his pack to fish out one of his tunics and reluctantly handing it over. Her face lit up in a smile as she took it from him and the blonde couldn't help but return the gesture at the look of innocent glee on her face. She stood up and turned towards her tent, but, seemingly thinking better of it, turned back towards where she had been sitting and crouched down to embrace her friend from behind, whispering her genuine thanks into his ear before she continued on her original trajectory.

Alistair blushed again, the feeling of her warm breath on his ear sending shivers down his spine, and bolted into his tent when he noticed the looks the other Wardens were giving him.

_'Maker preserve me,'_ he thought, feeling exhausted from the day's proceedings, _'that woman's going to be the death of me.'_

_**A/N:** I know the whole thing about her hatred of PJs might simply seem like a poor excuse for her later conversation with Alistair, and I will admit it is, in large part, just another opportunity to mock Alistair (haha), but I also thought it might add a little bit of depth of character, something, which I feel is lacking when you actually play the game, to make 'The Warden' a little more human. But, I don't know, maybe it was just two paragraphs of me rambling, haha. And besides, I actually know someone who literally cannot sleep in pants because it makes them feel confined, so at least I'm not just spouting nonsense._

_Aaannyyway, I think that's the first time I've tried to write actual sexual tension (I'm sure that's painfully obvious), so my apologies if it's crap. Anything like that is normally very awkward when I write it, haha._

_Right then, I hope you enjoyed what, I think, is my longest chapter yet because I certainly enjoyed writing it! I know it's pretty obvious where this story is going now, but I hope you'll stick with me to the end anyway. I'll try to add my own twists along the way so it doesn't get boring. So, please leave a review and tell me what you think. Constructive criticism is, as always, greatly appreciated! Bye guys!_


	7. Chapter 7

_**Summary:** What if there had been no Blight when Lilith Cousland joined the ranks of the Grey Wardens? How would she have coped with her new role and what relationships would she have forged when free of the pressure of saving the entire country?_

_**A/N:** It has been much too long since I updated this story and I'm not even sure why. I kept coming up with sentences and paragraphs in my head, but never at a time when I could actually get them written down somewhere, so this'll probably end up being nothing like I wanted it to be. But, I've got the ball rolling now, so hopefully I'll get back on top of this. Right then, I want to send a massive 'Thank You' and lots of love to everyone who reviewed the last chapter (your words really boosted my spirits!) and also to everyone who has added this story to their faves and alerts. Your support means so much to me, especially when I'm struggling to find inspiration. I apologise again for the long wait and hope that I actually make this chapter worth it.  
><strong>EDIT<strong>**:** I noticed some pretty bad typos when I was re-reading this recently (I needed to remember exactly where it ended before starting the next chapter) so I've hopefully, fixed them all now. If you notice any more, please let me know. I _really _need to learn to proof-read properly before I post the chapters._

_**Disclaimer:** I do not own Dragon Age: Origins or any of its characters (just my Lilith Cousland) and receive no profit from this story._

They had been only two hours journey away from the entrance to the great dwarven fortress of Ostagar when the Wardens spotted a figure apparently waiting for them further along the road, waving a tanned hand at them as they drew nearer. Duncan, as he promptly explained, had heard word of their arrival from some of the King's scouts and decided to meet them on the road and fill them in on the details of His Majesty's plans. Alistair wasn't ashamed to display the full extent of his pleasure at seeing his mentor again, shaking his hand and whole-heartedly expressing his wishes that all was well, but now, when he assumed they must be only a quarter of an hour's walk from their destination, he found another reason to be pleased at the man's reappearance.

He had noticed, with some concern, that Lilith had been growing gradually quieter and more reserved as they journeyed onwards towards Ostagar and, try as he might, the blonde had found it difficult to draw her out from the shell into which she seemed to be receding. During their evenings at camp she had seemed to return more to her usual self, leaving Alistair to wonder whether she simply disliked their long days of walking. However, Lilith had barely spoken over the past two days and even in the night, she would silently eat her meal and then retire from the company of any except her hound. But now, as he looked to the head of the group, he could see his fair-haired friend talking animatedly with the Warden-Commander. He was concerned that she seemed somewhat agitated, judging from her wild gesticulations, but he decided that anything was a marked improvement from her increasingly morose attitude. Nevertheless, he couldn't help feeling curious as to what they could be discussing so heatedly and wondered if there was any way he could surreptitiously make his way closer.

xXx

"But you promised me that-!" The young Noble started, but was quickly cut off by the older man waving his hand dismissively.

"I told you," Duncan started, his voice hard and forceful as if trying to emphasise each syllable, "that when the King returned to Denerim, you would be given leave to pursue your personal issues."

"But-!"

"This is a war, child." He interrupted, his voice calm but increasing in volume as he rubbed his temples where he could feel a growing ache, "Ostagar has been transformed into a camp for the army and the Korcari Wilds out there," he continued, waving his hand to encompass the great expanse of forest that could be seen in the valley below, "will be a battleground."

"I understand that, Duncan, I honestly do. But, you _cannot_ expect me to just forget about what happened," Lilith continued, her voice pleading, begging him to understand how important this was to her, "not when I have a chance to-"

"That is _exactly_ what I expect you to do, Lilith." The older man stated calmly, but Lilith could sense his normally well-hidden frustration bubbling up within him, "You are a noble no longer- a _Cousland_ no longer. You are a Grey Warden and you, as are we all, are obliged to do your duty as such. A blight threatens Ferelden and as far as you are concerned, ending it is all that matters."

The newest Warden felt like she had taken a physical blow when Duncan's harsh words sunk in, scarcely believing that the man who had saved her life and had fought valiantly to save those of her family and friends could say something so cruel. However, far from being deterred, she took up her mantle with increased vigour when she next spoke.

"I may be a Grey Warden," she started in a dangerously quiet voice that almost came out as a hiss, "I may have sworn my life to protect Ferelden and I may have been forced to leave behind everybody that I cared about." She continued, lifting her gaze from the ground to stare defiantly into her Commander's eyes, "But I will _always_ be a Cousland and a Cousland _always_ does their duty."

Had she not been so determined, so fuelled by righteous indignation at this new side of the older man's personality that had been revealed, she would have broken down on repeating the words that her father had said to her so many times throughout her life, the words that had been some of the last she was ever to hear him speak. But she buried her despair and kept her resolve, her blue gaze piercing Duncan's as the dark-haired man struggled for something to say.

However, any retort was delayed for the time being when the pair noticed a group of soldiers heading their way. Being so immersed in their discussion, they had failed to notice their arrival at the grand entrance to Ostagar, but Lilith was overtaken by awe when she looked ahead and took in the sheer scale of the enormous ruins, from the ancient stone archway under which she stood, to the tower that loomed over her just a stone's throw away. And there was more: a never-ending sea of people and movement bustled as far as the eye could see across the crumbling bridge that stretched out before her.

"Ho there, Duncan!" An all too cheery voice called out from the head of the approaching group. The young noble finally diverted her gaze away from her surroundings to look once more in the direction of the sound, only to see that she had been surrounded by the other Wardens while she daydreamed. However, peering over one of the slightly shorter men's shoulder, she saw a figure, donned in dazzling golden armour and with long hair to match, approaching the group of amassed Wardens. She recognised him immediately, having travelled to the family's estate in Denerim many times throughout her youth. _'The King,'_ she thought, looking about herself somewhat frantically for a means of escape from her prison of flesh, _'Duncan probably told them to group around me so I couldn't speak with him.' _She was starting to feel slightly exasperated from arguing with the elder man, but she knew that she could not falter in her duty to her family.

"King Cailan?" She heard Duncan reply, though he was now firmly out of her view; from his tone of voice, it was obvious that he had not expected to be seeing the King so soon. _'I imagine he believed he'd have more time to talk me around.'_ Lilith thought rather smugly. With that conviction, she gathered her wits, and a great deal of her strength, and forcefully pushed her way towards Ferelden's sovereign King, cutting a swathe through the now disgruntled men that had tried to deny her access.

"Then I'll have the mighty Wardens at my side in battle after all. Glorious!" The King exclaimed, a sense of boyish awe completely unbefitting of a ruler emanating from his every pore. His next speech was cut short, however, as Lilith emerged from the mass of men in front of him, a look of fierce determination in her burning gaze.

"Pardon the intrusion, your Majesty," she began, starting into a curtsey before realising that her current attire was hardly conducive to bending in such a manner. She settled for inclining her head and saluting in the traditional manner of a Ferelden soldier, hoping to seem polite and respectful despite her somewhat her impudent interruption, "But I have come here bearing grave news that I simply must relay to you."

"You are Bryce's youngest, are you not?" The King replied, his eyes assessing her from the ground up. Normally the act would have made her intolerably uncomfortable, however, something in the way that he phrased his question led her to believe that the look was intended to chase away doubt at her being there, as opposed to the looks she had often noticed lavished upon her form by young men, who were much too confident in their skills of stealth, in her opinion, at the many functions she had been forced to attend by her mother.

"Yes, your Majesty," she replied curtly, hoping for no further interruptions, "but I am afraid that I must report-"

"I am well aware of the situation at Highever." He replied matter-of-factly. Fear set in at that moment, a chill of uneasiness crawling slowly down Lilith's spine. _'Maker, no! He's been here - Howe has been here and spread his lies to cover up his treachery.'_

The King was about to speak again when Lilith interrupted him: "I assure you, your Majesty," she began, her voice growing frantic as panic started to overcome her mind, "that whatever you have been told is a falsehood! Rendon Howe murdered the inhabitants of Highever castle in cold blood and whatever slanderous lies he has been spreading to conceal it are-"

"I believe there has been some mistake," Cailan stepped in, placing his hands up defensively in order to stop the noble's tirade, "Arl Howe has not been here. In fact, I haven't received any word from him in months." Lilith heaved a sigh of relief at this news, all thoughts of being arrested and strung up on account of Howe's probable excuses fleeing her mind as quickly as they entered it. However, if Howe had not been the King's informant, then who had?

Just as she was trying to pull together her thoughts to coherently phrase the question, she received her answer. "Your brother informed me of Howe's insidious betrayal upon my arrival here," the King stated, a knowing look adorning his features, "and I can see from your face that you were just as unaware of his survival as he is of yours."

"Fergus Cousland is here, your Majesty?" Duncan asked, sounding as flabbergasted as Lilith was sure she must look, "You did not mention this before."

"You have not long arrived, Duncan," the blonde man replied, his voice carrying a haughty tone as if he was a child protesting against being scolded, "and ensuring you were up to date with our progress seemed to be of paramount importance. However, had I known that the Wardens could now count Lilith Cousland among their ranks, I would have been sure to inform you immediately."

"Fergus-" Lilith attempted, clearing her throat at the audible crackle in her voice. Nonetheless, her voice barely came out as more than a whisper, as if she was afraid of talking too loudly and breaking this new illusion, "Fergus is alive?" She finished in a tone almost akin to wonderment.

Cailan replied in the affirmative, a boyish grin settling on his face at the sudden change in countenance of the young woman before him, which immediately brightened at the avowal. However, his expression darkened before he next spoke, "But I am sorry to say that you cannot speak with him. Not yet, anyway." He added, hoping that the news would not hit her too hard. Before she could ask him why, he pressed onwards, "I have sent him, and a small contingent of my best men, into the Wilds to scout for darkspawn. They will not be returning until after the battle two days from now and until then, there is unfortunately no way to reach them."

The barrage of bad news sunk Lilith's spirits back to their former low, but her emotions, as always, expressed themselves however they pleased and right now she simply wanted to be angry, to shout and scream at the injustice of finding hope only to have it torn from her grasp so quickly.

"You sent him into the Wilds?" She asked incredulously, a dark edge to her voice, "You sent the rightful heir to the Highever teynir and, as far as you were aware, the _only _living Cousland into the bloody darkspawn-infested wilds?" She finished, a hysteric laugh bubbling up from amidst her frustration at the absurdity of the situation.

"Lilith!" Duncan scolded her sharply, his expression serious. He needn't have bothered, however, for she was fully aware that she was out of line: at this moment in time, she simply didn't care. It was as if something within her had snapped and all of the stress that she had bottled up over the past few months came flooding out of her in a harangue of poorly-chosen words.

"And who, may I ask," she continued, her voice taking a tone of mock-formality as she sauntered closer to the King, who looked somewhat stunned at her sudden outburst, "came up with such a _brilliant_ idea?"

"Your brother." He replied calmly after a moment of silence, deciding that keeping his head in the face of such obvious criticism was the best course of action. Of all that he had heard and seen of the youngest Cousland, he had never imagined that she was capable of such behaviour. She had been in attendance at the last royal ball, it being the only one to be held since her coming of age, and had shown herself to be the epitome of polite society. Looking at her now, he could scarcely believe that she was the same woman. His words seemed to have had the desired effect as she immediately sobered up, stepping back to a respectful distance and hanging her head. The King's next words were unnecessary, for Lilith knew her brother well enough to understand why he would request such a thing. Nevertheless, the pain that wrenched her heart upon hearing them still held the same sting: "He seemed eager for a distraction."

The young noble remained silent while Cailan returned to addressing Duncan, saying something about Loghain and search parties, at the same time too proud and too ashamed to open her mouth to apologise. Her head still pointed to the ground, she watched as the King's feet started to move away, only to stop after just a few paces and turn back towards her.

"I will tell you the same thing I told your brother, Lilith Cousland," he stated, the mention of her name startling her out of her reverie and causing her to look back into his eyes, which, though still hard, held a sort of understanding and compassion in their depths, "Once we are done here, I _will_ turn my army north and bring Howe to justice. You have my word."

"Thank you, your Majesty." She replied, trying her best to convey her honest gratitude. As he left, she looked to Duncan, expecting to be reprimanded further. Contrary to this, however, Duncan simply shook his head disappointedly, looking exhausted before silently walking away, the rest of the Wardens following in his wake and leaving her alone, to gaze out once again at the sea of activity that stretched out before her. A high-pitched whine sounded beside her as her ever-empathetic companion brushed his head against her thigh lovingly. A small sob choked her, forcing its way past her steely resolve to not give in to her emotions, but she would allow herself no more. Instead, she set off in the direction of the great bridge leading to the camp proper, her head held high and her back straight in the way that, as her mother had constantly reminded her, a lady should walk.

xXx

The sun was in the final minutes of its descent towards the horizon, a soft, warm breeze building strength and bringing rolling clouds, loaded with the promise of rain in the near future, barrelling along with it. Alistair looked up at the sky, the bright blue of day slowly giving way to hues of pink, orange and purple, and sighed heavily. He still wasn't exactly sure what had happened between Lilith and the King upon their arrival at Ostagar, but from the details he had gleaned thus far, it obviously wasn't pretty. Nevertheless, the fact that she had pretty much disappeared since the event had him worried, especially considering the melancholy mood that had overtaken her in the past few days; he simply didn't like the thought of her being alone somewhere, quietly seething or perhaps worse, lost among the vast crowds of people.

However, he soon discovered that finding her wouldn't be as easy as he had hoped. The camp that had been installed at the ancient fortress was unending and the number of people - soldiers, mages, clergymen, merchants - unfathomable. As he was beginning to think his search futile, and hoping beyond reason that she had made her way back to the Wardens' camp while he had been ambling around, he noticed something, a very familiar-looking something, bounding towards him.

"Max!" He practically shouted, his face lighting up as the great beast came to a shuddering stop at his feet. The dog barked happily in response, turning to run in the direction from which he came before stopping and looking back at the man expectantly. "I'm going to take a wild guess and say you want me to follow you." The dog barked again, bounding ahead and Alistair shook his head before following obediently. _'Aren't dogs supposed to listen to humans, not the other way around?'_

Max slowed his pace as he entered an emptier, more secluded corner of the enormous fort, populated only by a few weapon racks, a line of straw practice dummies and Lilith, hacking angrily at one of the helpless effigies. Alistair watched her for a moment, so engrossed was she that she was oblivious to his approach; her usually graceful movements appeared somewhat jarred and uncomfortable to the eyes of her observer, her face contorting with either anger or pain with every strike and Alistair couldn't help but wonder exactly how long she had been here. _'Judging from the state of that poor dummy,'_ he thought, his eyes taking in the exposed stuffing, loosened limbs and completely scarred wooden 'head', _'she must've been here for quite a while.'_

"Remind me," he started, a somewhat sly grin on his face as he casually worked his way closer to her position, "**never **to get on your bad side."

She finally turned to look at him, her chest heaving and sweat glistening along every exposed stretch of her pale skin. _'Yep, definitely been here too long.'_ He thought as he watched her mind trying to wrap around his words, to no avail.

"What?" She asked simply, looking rather disgruntled and displeased at the interruption.

"That poor dummy," he explained smiling, pointing in the direction of the mangled thing, "What did it ever do to you?"

_'At least that earned a laugh.'_ He thought happily, however, he was disappointed when she immediately went back to her previous occupation.

"I am ashamed to admit that _it _has done nothing to me," she started, clearly struggling to maintain the pace of her training and a conversation at the same time, "however, it proclaimed itself a more than willing participant in the stress relief that I felt was necessary after this morning's..._goings on_." She finished, her voice growing sharper as she accented each word with a fierce slash towards the 'it' in question.

"Ah." Her onlooker replied simply, staying quiet for a moment. Upon a particularly violent attack hitting its mark in the wooden block that the practice dummies were equipped with for heads, Lilith grunted furiously as her blade, evidently stuck, slipped from her grasp to remain firmly planted in the side of the mannequin's skull, leaving a very noticeable streak of red across the handle of the ornate weapon. "Hey, you're bleeding." Alistair stated with concern as she threw her dagger disgustedly onto the ground, approaching her and taking her hands as she attempted to scrunch them into her hair in the way that, he had recently noticed, she always did when she was stressed.

"Hmm?" She asked, looking at her now outstretched palms with a cloudy gaze. The wounds on her hands were little more than grazes, but they were bleeding more than one would expect, a fact which made the blonde's forehead crease worriedly.

"Maker's breath, Lil, how long have you been out here?" He asked, his breath sticking in his throat at the knowledge that she had inflicted these wounds upon herself.

"How many hours has it been since I made an arse out of myself?" She asked, trying to lighten the mood, but the worry embedded in her friend's disapproving gaze made her wish she had just kept her mouth shut, or better yet, that the earth would just open up and swallow her. _'Why does it hurt so much when he looks at me like that?'_ She wondered. After all, that sort of judgement from anyone else would normally be enough to put her on the defensive.

Before she knew what was happening, she was being dragged across the training ground, stumbling as she attempted to keep up with his urgent pace, before she was ordered to sit on the stone bench that stretched across the outer wall of the compound. She did as she was told, watching as Alistair retrieved a bucket of water and rags that were left nearby, usually for the cleaning of one's weapons, before squatting before her and holding out his hands expectantly. She held her own out obediently, wincing as a water-soaked rag was pressed against the cuts on her left hand.

"Sorry."

"It's okay." She answered, keeping her head turned towards the ever-darkening horizon. She was ashamed to let him look after her like this, even if it was something as simple as cleaning a minor wound, but she smiled as his touch became more gentle, his evident wish not to hurt her, despite the quiet anger that radiated off him, warming her heart against the coldness that had gripped it earlier in the day.

"My brother is here." She announced, her voice so soft that she wondered if Alistair had even heard her speak. However, his movements stilled after she spoke and he slowly lifted his head to look at her.

"That's great, isn't it?" He asked, completely befuddled that she would seem upset by the news that, contrary to her belief, her brother was actually alive.

"Of course, I mean, I never thought I would see him again," she said, though Alistair still wasn't convinced that she truly understood the implications of her news, "but when I say that he _is_ here, it would probably be more apt to say that he _was _here."

At this, the blonde was only more confused. Lilith turned her head to regard him, her eyes clouded with tears that refused to fall, a pained expression on her face that almost broke his heart in two.

"The King...," she started, not really desirous to talk about her conversation with the country's sovereign, "Cailan sent him out into the Wilds - to look for darkspawn - and for all anybody knows he could already have fallen out there. The King tells me that he requested the mission and I know Fergus, he probably went out there looking for an honourable death."

Alistair didn't know what to say, but he knew he would have to attempt something. "Can't you reach him? Send a message or something?" She shook her head 'no'.

"There's no way of contacting him, no way of knowing exactly where he is, or whether he's alive and if he does, by some work of the Maker, survive, he won't be back until after this blasted battle is done." She said, a feeling of helplessness starting to set in once again and her unshed tears threatening to break free once more.

"Come on, it'll be alright. You'll see." Alistair tried, pushing himself off the floor to sit next to her on the bench and, before he could change his mind, draping an arm across her shoulders to pull her closer to him. Though his platitudes were of little comfort, the effect of such a simple act of affection was overwhelming as the young noble rested her head against his strong chest, the warmth and scent radiating from him calming her senses and soothing her aching bones.

"And to top it all off," she continued, breaking the serenity of the moment, "I basically accused the King of being an idiot." She buried her face in her hands at the recollection.

"Don't worry about Cailan," Alistair said, nudging her good-naturedly, "I think he's used to those sorts of accusations." A muffled laugh came from behind her hands before she settled her head back against his chest. He unconsciously tightened his grip around her, causing her to smile conspiratorially to herself.

They sat in silence for some time, each comfortable in the other's embrace, as they watched the last of the sun's light fade from the sky, the bright colours of day finally yielding to a well-earned rest as the dark of night took over their responsibilities. Alistair smiled as he saw his fair-haired friend try, and fail, to stifle a yawn, clearly drawn to sleep by the encroaching night. However, she seemed reluctant to give up the comfort that she had found in his arms as she once again settled herself properly against him.

"I don't know about you," the blonde said, earning an annoyed glare as he started to stand up, "but I'm shattered. You coming back?" He asked, holding out a hand to help her up.

She nodded her acquiescence, taking his hand tentatively, though whether due to her cuts or some other force he couldn't tell, and using the leverage to pull her aching body out of a sitting position, already missing his comforting warmth as the cold night air started to creep across her exposed arms, causing the hairs to stand on end. However, she didn't immediately release his hand, as he had expected, keeping it firmly within her grasp as she wrapped her arm around his and pressed her body flush against his side, stretching onto her tip-toes to place a gentle kiss on his now-enflamed cheek.

"Thank you, Alistair." She whispered before returning to her normal height, still grasping his arm and leaning against him for support. She tapped her leg for Max to follow and he did so obediently, demanding a scratch behind the ears, most likely as a reward for a job well done in bringing the blonde man here, by way of pushing his great head against the hand that lay limp at her side. Her companion cleared his throat gruffly as they headed back towards the part of the camp where the Wardens had congregated, hoping more than words could ever express that his fellows had already retired for the night.

_**A/N:** Oh my God! It's finally done! I can't even remember how long it's been since I posted the last chapter and I'm not sure I want to know. I just want to apologise for the long wait again, but, at over 6 pages and 4478 words, this is the longest chapter of anything I have ever written. I just hope it's not all drivel, haha. Anyway, thank you so much for reading and please leave a review to tell me what you thought!_


	8. Chapter 8

_**Summary:** What if there had been no Blight when Lilith Cousland joined the ranks of the Grey Wardens? How would she have coped with her new role and what relationships would she have forged when free of the pressure of saving the entire country?_

_**A/N:** UGH! I have had such a horrible, lousy day! Hopefully, finally writing this chapter will take my mind off it. Fingers crossed. Anyway, I can only apologise again for the ridiculously long delay with this chapter. I just keep suffering with terrible bouts of writer's block, but I** am** determined to push through them and power on with this story, because I really love writing it. Anywho, I hope you enjoy it!_

_**Disclaimer:** I do not own Dragon Age: Origins or any of its characters (just my Lilith Cousland) and receive no profit from this story._

Lilith stopped short in her path as she came across a table strewn with maps of the area, almost illegible notes scribbled onto the slightly tattered sheets of vellum from every angle. The elven servants that seemed to have been tidying the area looked flustered as she halted there, likely expecting her to scold them for leaving the papers in such a state of disarray, but she paid them no need as she softly ran her fingers over the coarse parchment, tracing the contour lines and following the twisting paths whilst trying to envisage the lay of the land in her mind's eye. Her father had often told her that she possessed a keen eye for strategy, a suspicion that was first aroused when, at age twelve, she bested him in a game of chess, and though she had read all of the great tacticians that Highever's impressive library stocked, she had never had a chance to put her skills to the test. She imagined that her part in the upcoming battle would be minimal. Nevertheless, she felt a sort of calming influence wash over her as she decided on the best way to counter the Darkspawn's offensive, which, she deduced from the hastily scribbled notes, would come from the North.

_'The King's men plan to make their stand_ here_,'_ she thought, pulling a map which depicted the part of the Wilds closest to Ostagar across the table and resting it in front of herself, _'and they believe the Darkspawn will appear _here_.'_ She continued, idly fingering the arrow on the map which indicated the creature's likely approach. _'That gives them the high ground.'_ A pensive frown settled across her face, her eyebrows knotting together in concern. _'That hardly seems like sound strategy, surely-'_ She turned, her thoughts cut off, as she heard vague voices drifting from behind her, originating in a raised part of what appeared to be an old, long-since ruined temple. She sent a forlorn look back towards the maps before reluctantly heading to the source of the commotion, scolding herself for being so easily distracted from the task that Duncan had sent her on. As it was, her relationship with her Commander was strained after the debacle of the previous day and she strongly doubted that ignoring the older man's request would help her any in her quest to win back his approval. As such, she was pleased when she heard a familiar voice intoning from behind the robe-clad back of a circle mage.

"Yes, I was harassing **you** by delivering a message." Alistair stated in a tone that spoke volumes of his incredulity.

"Your glibness does you no credit." The dark-skinned mage replied sharply, an exhausted edge to his voice.

"And here I thought we were getting along so well," Alistair continued, mock hurt in his voice, as he noticed Lilith's arrival, "I was even going to name one of my children after you... the _grumpy_ one." He added, covertly winking to his friend over the mage's soldier. Lilith couldn't help smiling at how childish her friend could be at times and she noted, from his widening grin, that the blonde seemed very pleased at her reaction.

"Enough! I will speak to the woman if I must," the mage replied, clearly tired of dealing with Alistair, "Out of my way fool!" He added, roughly pushing past Lilith as he made his way towards the steps, earning himself a fierce scowl.

"What a charming man." She muttered, mostly to herself, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she turned back to face her fellow Warden.

"You know," he began, his usual smile plastered on his face as he took a few steps towards her, "one good thing about the Blight is how it brings people together. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside."

Lilith shook her head laughingly. "You are a _very_ strange man." She stated by way of reply.

"You're not the first woman to tell me that." He said, his voice taking on an almost pensive tone.

"Somehow, that doesn't surprise me."

"Ouch! Now I'm wounded," he said, adopting a look of genuine hurt but maintaining a light tone of voice, "Look at me, bleeding all over the place. You're just not very nice, are you?" He finished, laughing outright and causing his companion to do the same.

"So," Alistair started again, gesturing for them to move towards the stairs, "did you need something, or did you just come here to hurt my manly feelings?" He finished, accenting his statement with a forced sniff as if holding back tears.

"Actually, Duncan asked me to find you." Lilith answered matter-of-factly, ignoring her friend's antics. At his curious look, she continued, "He said something about needing time to prepare the Joining for Daveth and Ser Jory. I think he wants us to get them out of his hair for a little while."

Alistair hummed pensively, rubbing his stubbled chin in a comical imitation of a man deep in thought. "He probably has some final task for them," he said at length, "a test of their skill or some such."

"Is such a thing the norm?" She asked, her tone inquisitive.

"I'm not really sure." He answered honestly. "I've only been a Warden for a little over six months and the only recruit we've had in that time is you. I suppose it's not unusual though," he continued thoughtfully, after a short pause, "Daveth was recruited after trying to pick Duncan's pocket and I believe Ser Jory was chosen on reputation and willingness alone. We've no idea whether they can actually handle a real combat situation."

Lilith simply gave a non-committal nod. She had, at first, been wondering why there had been no test of _her_ skill; after all, all of her instruction had been completely hypothetical, more of a pastime than a practical talent she expected to use. However, she knew now what her trial had been; there was only one time that her training had been put to the test and the fact that she survived where so many of her friends and family had fallen was testament enough to her ability, she imagined.

From the visible change in her countenance, Alistair could see that his fellow Warden's thoughts had ran into treacherous territory, though he knew not where exactly her mind had strayed. However, he felt it prudent to call her attention away from whatever was plaguing her mind and attempted to draw her back into the conversation.

"How are the dreams?" He asked casually, realising too late that he was just trading one unhappy topic for another.

"Not so bad... I'm almost used to them by now." She replied without turning, a faraway look still dulling her usually bright eyes. Her first experience with the taint-induced dreams had come during their journey to Ostagar and had shaken her to core. However, with explanations and assurances from her fellows, she felt much better now than she had at the start; she still didn't get as much sleep as she'd like, but at least the visions didn't leave her feeling totally drained anymore.

"You'll learn to block them out completely with time," he assured, "and it'll be much easier once this Blight is over and there are fewer Darkspawn on the surface."

"Yeah... I imagine everything will be a lot easier when this is all over." As she spoke, she turned to face him, forcing a smile as an uneasy feeling settled into her gut, like something cold and wet squirming through her insides. She had never rode into battle before, but she knew to trust her instincts and she had a very strong feeling that this Blight wasn't going to be finished as easily as everyone hoped. _'Perhaps it's just nerves,'_ she thought, somewhat hopefully, though even she wasn't convinced by that.

"And your hands?" Alistair's voice recalled her from her dark thoughts once again.

Her cheeks warmed slightly, though her fair skin had an often annoying habit of intensifying every little flush that crept onto its surface, as she remembered how tenderly the blonde had tended to her wounds the previous day. "They're fine," she replied, her gaze downcast hoping to obscure his view with a curtain of hair, "They don't hurt anymore."

"Let me see." He said, stopping and holding out his hands, much in the same way as he had the previous evening. Again, she obediently placed her own hands, palms upwards, into his larger ones.

She could feel her blush growing deeper as he scrutinised the now almost invisible scratches that adorned her once flawless flesh, his thumb idly caressing one of the more noticeable cuts as if testing to see if it was as deep as it appeared.

"They should be all but gone by tomorrow," he said with a smile, releasing her hands after a short pause, "The cuts, that is, not your hands."

Lilith turned her gaze back to her palms as the two continued walking, a thought suddenly occurring to her.

"So you don't think they'll scar?" She asked, her lips forming an almost child-like pout.

"You almost sound disappointed." Alistair said, laughing at her expression. _'It shouldn't be legal for a grown woman to look so adorable,'_ he thought before registering that he had no idea how old the Noble-turned-Warden actually was.

"A warrior shouldn't have pristine, manicured hands," she stated, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, "I was hoping for my first battle scar." A sheepish smile crept onto her face as she realised how silly she must sound.

"There will be _plenty_ of time for that... Trust me." Alistair replied, his voice losing a little of its trademark mirth. However, it soon returned as he continued, a sly smile on his face, "Besides. If this is to be your _first_ battle scar, I think you might want to save it for a more glorious opponent than a wooden man." He finished laughing, causing her to blush all the more.

"You know," she started, a bright smile illuminating her lovely features, "whenever I was training at home - in Highever, that is - Mother would always make me wear a pair of ladies gloves, silken ones that stretched all the way to my elbow, underneath a pair of leather riding gloves, _all_ underneath my gauntlets. Though she preferred me to stay away from plate and mail altogether." She continued laughing slightly.

"Maker's breath, how did you even move your hands?" Her companion asked, appearing somewhat aghast.

"With great difficulty, I assure you." She replied, laughing at his reaction, "I once broached the topic with my mother, but she told me that 'no man would want to kiss the calloused hand of a fearsome battle maiden' and that was that."

xXx

Lilith readjusted the weapons on her back for the third time, fidgeting uncomfortably in her armour. For the whole of the three week journey to Ostagar, she had worn a set of light, flexible leathers, leaving her heavier chainmail pieces to be transported in the cart that the Wardens had brought with them and after such a long time, she felt unused to the restrictive feeling of wearing heavy plate. However, after being informed that she and Alistair would be escorting the two recruits into the Korcari Wilds to retrieve vials of Darkspawn blood, she decided that a little discomfort was a small price to pay for the added protection from being run through by a Hurlock.

She turned to observe Daveth and Ser Jory, who were standing a few paces behind her. She had met the both of them only that morning when the whole Order, together with the two recruits, had gathered for the breakfast and she had gotten fairly well acquainted with each of them. Daveth, a cut-purse of some repute in Denerim, was actually from a small village a few days travel from Ostagar, on the Eastern border of the Korcari Wilds. She had decided that he seemed a nice enough fellow, if not somewhat of a lecher, but she couldn't help questioning Duncan's judgement in invoking the Right of Conscription for a criminal meant for the noose. Ser Jory, on the other hand, she had decided was a very honourable man. A knight in the employ of Arl Eamon, he revealed that he had not long since moved to Highever to be with his wife, Helena, who was expecting their first child. She had congratulated him heartily, desperately trying to crush the ache that arose from the knowledge that his family was just beginning in the same place that hers had been ended. She was immeasurably glad that Jory had not resided in Highever long enough to recognise her as the Teyrn's daughter, as she had not the energy to explain her unique situation to a stranger and to calmly take their platitudes.

She smiled as she saw Alistair part from Duncan, with whom he had been conversing in private for the past five minutes.

"All set?" She asked, her voice a little more cheerful than she felt.

"Yes. Duncan wants us to seek out an old Grey Warden archive to the Northeast of here. Apparently it contains some ancient treaties that were signed not long after the second Blight."

"That long ago? How does he even know they're still there?" Four hundred years had passed since the last Blight; Lilith couldn't even fathom how old these contracts would be.

"They're supposedly protected by a magical seal," he replied, sounding unsure, "Either way, if they're there, we need to find them and bring them back."

She nodded her understanding as Daveth and Ser Jory approached.

"If you're done chit-chatting, I'd like to be back in time for tea." Daveth called in his heavy rural accent, a lop-sided grin on his face.

"Yes, we're ready." Alistair replied, a hint of a sigh in his voice.

"Well then, we'd best be off." Ser Jory intoned, his voice wavering slightly, "I, for one, don't fancy the idea of being out _there_ when darkness falls."

xXx

Great wooden stakes, held together by long iron clasps, marked the boundary between the King's camp and the surrounding wilderness, forebodingly reminiscent of the architecture of the Chasind, a second danger to the Wilds that Lilith had not considered before. She knew little of the Chasind, just that they were known throughout the land as barbarians, and she feared a confrontation with the native people almost as much as she did the villainous creatures that they were setting out to find.

As they approached the gate, at least ten foot in height, the dull throb that Lilith had felt in her head for some time started to amplify, growing stronger by the second. It pulsed in steady beat with her heart, which started to race as the pain caused a flood of adrenaline into her system, becoming louder and faster with every faltering step that she took. Her vision blurred and she vaguely heard someone calling out her name, but everything was drowned out by the incessant beating in her head; a heavy, clamorous sound with perfect rhythm and timing, like the marching footsteps of an army, a thousand strong, led by a lone drummer.

Her vision had blackened, her surroundings completely forgotten. The pain was gone; Her mind was filled only with the alluring sound of drums.

She felt someone grabbing her face roughly, the outside contact jolting her from her dream-like state and causing her senses to rush back. Sight, sound, smell - they assaulted her fragile mind and suddenly the pain was overwhelming. The drumming became more insistent, clawing at the edges of her mind, trying to draw her back in. She clutched her head, trying desperately to drive the sensations away, before she felt warm comforting hands resting, gingerly, on her cheeks again.

She heard her name, recognised it, but it was not her full name. '_Lil_'. The same as her brother had called her for as long as she could remember, a name that felt like home. Her vision cleared, slowly, but she was greeted not with the vibrant blue eyes of her brother as she had expected. Instead, warm amber irises were all that she could see, calloused hands on her cheeks all that she could feel.

"Take a deep breath, Lil."

His voice filtered through her senses, concerned, scared perhaps, but his eyes smiled reassuringly and she did as she was told. She dragged air into her body, closing her eyes and letting it fill her, keeping it within her as she felt her mind clearing. When she opened her eyes, releasing the breath, she could see him fully.

"I- I'm sorry." She rasped, shaken by the unknown power that had seemed to invade her body, her very soul. She vaguely registered that she was on the floor, kneeling uncomfortably, though she did not remember falling.

"What happened?" Alistair asked, releasing his grip of her face and resting his hands on her shoulders instead.

"I'm not sure." She answered, raising a hand to her forehead and rubbing her furrowed brow. Already it felt as if the experience was washing away from her, becoming a distant memory. It was disconcerting, to say the least. "It was like... like there was this throbbing inside my head. Except, it wasn't just in my head. It was like it was a part of me, coursing through my veins." She looked into his eyes almost pleadingly, praying for some sort of explanation.

"You remember how we told you that we can sense the hoard in our dreams?" She nodded, staying silent. "Well, when Darkspawn are close enough, we can sense them when we're awake, too. As far as I know, it affects people differently, but... I've never seen it cause such a violent reaction." Worry lines marred his handsome features as he eyed her worriedly, but still, she stayed silent, processing the information.

"Perhaps we should get you back to Duncan." He said, helping her to her feet and making to turn back in the direction from which they had come.

"No." She stated vehemently, her wits fully restored, startling her friend. "If this is what I am to expect every time I face one of the creatures, then it is best that it is done now. The battle against the Darkspawn will take place tomorrow eve and I cannot afford to go into it without knowing a thing about my opponent."

Alistair made a motion to disagree, but she cut him off.

"Alistair, I _am_ coming with you." Her tone clearly did not brook argument and the blonde sighed, dragging a hand wearily down his face.

"Okay," he agreed reluctantly, "but you have to _promise _me that as soon as you feel anything like you've just described, you will tell me and we can stop and wait for it to pass."

She nodded, but Alistair wasn't satisfied. He laid his hands heavily on her shoulders again, looking her square in the eye. "Promise me, Lil." He demanded.

"I promise." She said solemnly, laying a hand over one of his. He sighed heavily, but nodded, turning back towards the entrance to the Wilds.

Lilith took a deep, steadying breath before setting off, but she could feel the eyes of Daveth and Ser Jory on her as surely as if they had been able to burn holes into her back. _'Great job, Lilith,'_ she scolded herself, _'what a brilliant way to inspire confidence in the new recruits.'_

_**A/N:** I wasn't entirely sure where to end this chapter, but I think stopping here should be conducive to getting the next one up and rolling. It's a fair bit shorter than my last few chapters and I think the next few might be about this length, too. But, you never know, my fingers tend to run away from me, haha. I wasn't really sure how I was planning on writing the last part and it came out a little differently than I'd expected, but, I think it works...maybe... I'm not really sure. Either way, I'm so glad to finally have this chapter finished. I want to apologise again for the wait and say a big 'thank you' to all of my readers. And, as always, please leave a review. They really brighten up my day!_

_P.S. I **had** to put Alistair's "I'm wounded" line somewhere into this story. It's probably my favourite line out of all of his dialogue in game, but I couldn't remember when he said it and, as it turns out, I've missed it in this playthrough. I'm absolutely devastated!_


	9. Chapter 9

_**Summary:** What if there had been no Blight when Lilith Cousland joined the ranks of the Grey Wardens? How would she have coped with her new role and what relationships would she have forged when free of the pressure of saving the entire country?_

_**A/N:** I know everyone's probably sick of hearing it by now, but I am sincerely sorry for the wait on this chapter and I want to thank all of my readers for their support and infinitesimal patience with me and my ridiculously slow updates . I put a little note on my profile saying that I wouldn't be back for a little while, just in case anyone checked, just to let you guys know that I had my final A-levels coming up and so I really had no inspiration to write. The problem is, I finished them nearly two weeks ago and I still can't conjure up my muse. But, I'm trying to now and I will persevere, because I love writing this story even if my tendency to flit from obsession to obsession and lose interest in things is a massive pain in my bum. Right then, now that that's out of the way, I hope you enjoy this long-awaited chapter. There's a lot of dialogue taken straight out of the game in this one; I hope you don't mind. I've always thought the dialogue in DA:O brilliant and I still hate writing conversations, so I figured I'd just stick with it._

_**Disclaimer:** I do not own Dragon Age: Origins or any of its characters (just my Lilith Cousland) and receive no profit from this story._

Standing just past the gates from Ostagar, Lilith could think of only one word to describe the Korcari Wilds: stagnant. To all sides were bogs, treacherously deep with thick, sludgy water, yet somehow sustaining fairly large patches of reeds that stuck their heads above the surface at random intervals, reaching out desperately for air from the murky depths. The variety of trees in the forest suggested a level of fertility, but the air was eerily still and not so much as a single leaf could flutter in the non-existent breeze. In the near distance, rows of collapsed, dilapidated buildings sunk into the larger lakes, the edges of their ancient brickwork crumbling and, in many places, only the very peaks of archways, their architecture reminiscent of that of the ancient Tevinters, were visible above the surface. No birds flew from their perches, nor did any small creatures scuttle from one sanctuary to the next, as the group took their first, tentative steps into the expanse of woods, following a barely-there path that could only have been carved by the scouting troops by whom there were preceded.

"This place don't feel right to me." Daveth remarked quietly, accentuating his statement with a voluntary shudder as he drew his bow in readiness for some invisible enemy. Beside him, Ser Jory's eyes widened to the size of saucers, darting to and fro skittishly. Alistair simply sent a scathing look over his shoulder to the former cutpurse.

"I'm tellin' you," he continued, unabated, in a conspiratorial whisper, "they tell stories about this place back home. There are witches in these woods."

"Hush, Daveth!" Lilith snapped, her patience wearing thin much more rapidly than normal. Her experience within the confines of the camp had frayed her nerves considerably and the unnatural stillness of this place only served to further set her on edge. Alistair shot her a concerned look from the corner of his eye, but she ignored him, keeping her gaze on the road ahead.

After a few more steps, she could feel it again: the thrumming in her veins, the pounding in her head that felt all too familiar for having only been experienced once before. She stopped abruptly, taking a deep breath as three pairs of eyes came to rest uneasily on her, deciding on embracing the sensation instead of fighting it and allowing it to wash over her.

"Lil?" Alistair asked uncertainly, taking a step towards her and bringing a gauntleted hand to rest gently on her upper arm, so as not to startle her. She blinked once, slowly, revealing azure irises that suddenly shone with clarity. Her mind felt startlingly clear and she was overcome with a moment of epiphany, like waking from a deep sleep, or regaining vision after having been blinded.

"I'm fine, Alistair." She said slowly, almost mechanically, not really paying heed to his concern. She could see them, dotted like landmarks on a map in her head, approaching at a leisurely pace. It was an unusual feeling, to see something that should be invisible with such astonishing precision. "If I were you, I'd be more worried about the four Darkspawn about to crest that hill." She finished, pointing to a rise in the near distance before withdrawing her sword and dagger.

The blonde turned, mouth agape, just in time to see the creatures reach the top of the ridge. _'Four of them, just as she said'_, he thought, bewildered, _'three Genlocks and a Hurlock.'_ He returned his gaze to Lilith's face, only now feeling the familiar cold settling into his gut that indicated the presence of the spawn.

"How did you-?" He was cut off as he felt the unmistakable _whoosh_ of air from an arrow passing too close for comfort to the back of his head.

"No time for that." She replied, a hint of a smile tugging the corners of her lips as she hurtled into the fray, Ser Jory, greatsword balanced between his hammy fists, following behind. Alistair swore under his breath as he retrieved his own weapon, running to catch up.

One of the Genlocks went down almost immediately as the three warriors finally met their assailants, a few well-placed arrows protruding proudly from its chest. Lilith sent an appreciative glance over her shoulder to Daveth, who was exactly where they'd left him, already notching another arrow, and rushed another of the smaller creatures. From the corner of her eye, she could see her companions each engaged in their own battle: Ser Jory was facing the final Genlock, the strength of his swings just barely matching the speed and agility of the creature; Alistair was swinging his shield in a high arc, the full force of its weight smashing into the Hurlock's face and knocking it to the floor. Before it could recover, he drove his sword into the middle of its chest, thick, dark ichor bursting from the wound and splattering across his armour.

Lilith turned back to her own opponent, deftly skidding to the right to avoid a swing from the creature's dagger. With her own, she lashed out, aiming for the unprotected surface of the beast's face. It jumped back, well out of range of her short dagger, but still within the reach of her family sword. She spun, putting her full weight into the swing of her right arm and cleanly slicing the Genlock's head from its shoulders. The creature collapsed to its knees in front of her, the motion unnervingly controlled, as if it might stand again and continue to fight despite having been decapitated. It fell slowly to the floor at her feet, viscous blood pooling in front of the gaping hole where once its head had stood. Lilith rapidly retreated back to her companions before the liquid could begin to lap at her boots, noticing Ser Jory gingerly filling one of the vials that they had been provided with blood from the Genlock that he, with a small amount of help from Alistair, had felled.

She felt herself smiling, the rush of adrenaline in her veins providing a decided high. She had faced her first Darkspawn and won and though the creatures were undoubtedly disturbing, giving off a sickly aura of pestilence and degradation, they were by no means as hauntingly terrifying as her taint-induced nightmares had suggested.

She was pulled roughly from her slight daze as Alistair yanked her away from the two recruits, not stopping until they reached the shore of a decidedly large mire. He rounded on her rapidly, his voice barely more than a harsh whisper when he spoke: "What in the Maker's name was that?" He asked, his fingers gripping Lilith's slender arms so tightly it would certainly have hurt had she not been wearing her armour.

"I don't know what you mean." She replied uncertainly, cowed by the intensity in his usually gentle amber orbs. As if sensing her discomfort, he took a quick step back, starting to pace in a small circle in front of her as he gathered his thoughts.

"_That_-," he finally spoke again, gesturing loosely in the general direction from which they had come, "that was not normal. How could you tell they were coming? And how did you know how many there were?" He asked, a little frantically.

"Could you not see them?" She asked, her voice small as Alistair's concern for her started to penetrate her own, slightly clouded, mind.

"'_See them'_?" He repeated somewhat incredulously, "No. Not at all. I barely even _felt_ them until they were already over the hill. What do you mean 'see them'?"

"I-" She cut off, unable to explain, "I don't know. It was just as if I could see them; like an image had been transplanted into my head showing me where they were." She finished, feeling slightly defensive at the unbelieving tone that her friend was using.

Alistair simply stared at her a moment longer before releasing an exhausted sigh, rubbing a hand wearily down his face for the second time in the last half an hour. He could tell quite easily that he had handled the situation incorrectly, indelicately, but he had no explanation for what was happening to Lilith and he was becoming increasingly worried. Even Duncan, who was dangerously close to the end of his thirty years as a Warden, couldn't sense the Darkspawn with such accuracy.

"I'm sorry, Lil," he said at length, trying to smile reassuringly, "I'm just a little bit on edge and you- well, I'm sorry." He finished lamely.

"It's okay." She returned, placing her hand on his arm and squeezing gently in what she hoped was an encouraging manner.

They headed back over to Daveth and Jory, who had eagerly watched their exchange, each filled with the same doubt and niggling fear about whatever phenomenon Lilith was experiencing.

xXx

They had made it only a few feet further down the path when they spotted more evidence of the Darkspawn's influence in the Wilds. In front of them lay half a dozen bodies, both human and other and all mutilated terribly. Some were missing limbs; others were mostly intact, but littered with ragged, gaping wounds across their chests and backs.

"It almost looks as if they've been... _feeding_." Lilith stated gingerly, the thought turning her stomach somewhat, as she inspected one of the corpses more closely, noting the frayed edges to the sores which were not dissimilar to those she often saw on rabbits that Max had caught. She turned to her companions, their faces a mixture of disgust and consideration at the idea, when their attention was caught by a croaking voice from amidst the carnage.

One of the soldiers was dragging himself bodily across the floor towards their position, his progress achingly slow due to the oozing gash across his left shoulder blade that was just barely visible under his armour.

"Who... is that?" He forced out, every syllable emphasised with agony, "Grey Wardens?"

"Well, he's not half as dead as he looks, is he?" Alistair quipped lightly, earning himself a depreciatory glance from the rest of the party.

"My scouting band was attacked by Darkspawn. They came out of the ground... Please, help me!" He pleaded, "I've got to... return to camp."

"You were with the scouts?" Lilith demanded, a frantic edge to her voice as her eyes skittered across the surrounding men, searching for one, very familiar face amongst them. When her scan turned up no results, she turned back to the soldier. "What happened to my brother? Do you know where he is?"

"Your... brother, miss?" He asked, lifting his head weakly to regard Lilith.

"We should really patch him up," Alistair interjected at the sight of the man's bloody face, "I have some bandages in my pack."

"Fergus Cousland," she continued, as Alistair began to strip the man's chestplate in order to access the wound, "he was leading your party, yes?"

"Lord Cousland is your brother?" He asked incredulously, his eyes wide and stark against the ruby liquid smeared across his face. At Lilith's nod he continued. "I don't rightly know what happened to him, my Lady. Our group was ambushed and we," he gestured weakly to the surrounding bodies, "were separated from the rest."

Lilith was quiet for a moment, disappointed at the lack of actual knowledge regarding her brother's whereabouts and her fear for his safety nagging her more strongly than ever having witnessed the force of the Darkspawn's devastation on human life.

"Thank you," she replied, trying not to look too downcast, as Alistair finished his ministrations and helped the soldier to stand, "you've been a great help."

He righted himself with a pained groan as Alistair released his weight and bade them thanks before returning along the path to camp.

"Fergus Cousland is your brother?" asked Ser Jory after a pause, and Lilith visibly flinched. _'I really don't want to have this conversation,'_ she thought, but couldn't bring herself to say.

Alistair, noting the tension that passed like a roiling wave through his friend's form, stepped in. "I don't think this is the time for that conversation," he stated, conjuring his most authoritative tone, "we've still a job to do."

Jory, looking slightly like an admonished child, just nodded, still eyeing Lilith with an inscrutable look.

"_Thank you._" Lilith mouthed as soon as she could catch the blonde's attention. He smiled warmly in return, the slight upturn to the corner of his lips causing Lilith's heart to flutter in her chest. She held onto the warmth that spread through her as Jory, attention diverted from her lineage, started fretting, once again, about the danger posed by the Darkspawn.

xXx

With the overabundance of spawn in the area, the remaining vial was quickly filled with its intended contents and the party set off to the Northeast in search of the Grey Warden cache. The map in Alistair's hands, an ancient, tattered and yellowing scroll, showed the position of the long-since-abandoned fortress as a mere cross amidst one of the larger clearings. In the near distance, its tallest spires and arches were just barely visible, the obviously artificial constructs a stark contrast against the natural surroundings. However, as they neared, it was clear that nature had, over the great time that had passed since its abandonment, started to reclaim the land that was once solely in her possession. Great, twisting vines clambered up the outermost walls of the crumbling fortress, working their way into cracks that had long since formed in the brickwork so that the transition from stone to earth was barely distinguishable. Within the poorly-marked boundary of the vault, trees had sprung up long enough ago that they were majestic in size, standing proudly amid what was once undoubtedly a vast hall, and a thick, spongy moss covered every inch of the floor.

At the very back of the building stood an ornate chest, metal cracked and vaulted, clearly devoid of any contents. Lilith turned a concerned glance to Alistair who returned her gaze nervously before bending to inspect the trunk more closely. The rest of the party scanned the room for any other remnants of ages past, but it was decidedly empty.

"Well, well, what have we here?" A sudden rich, drawling voice spoke up from behind, "Are you a vulture, I wonder? A scavenger, poking amidst a corpse whose bones were long since cleaned?" A young woman, hair as dark as a cloudless night swept up atop her head, scantily clad in rags that just barely covered her form, loped lazily into the vault, eyeing the gathered company shrewdly, with no trace of fear upon noting their heavily armed and armoured state and just the faintest hint of intrigue in her striking yellow eyes. "Or merely an intruder?" She continued, in the same unhurried, conversational tone, "Come into these Darkspawn-filled Wilds of mine in search of easy prey." A pause. "What say you, hmm? Scavenger or intruder?" Her sharp eyes fixed on Lilith, scrutinising her as if they could read her soul etched into her skin, before quickly flitting away.

"We are neither." Lilith replied, redirecting the stranger's attention back onto herself. "The Grey Wardens once owned this tower."

"'Tis a tower no longer; the Wilds have obviously claimed this desiccated corpse." She returned smoothly, moving to circle around the group. "I have watched your progress for some time. 'Where do they go,' I wondered, 'why are they here?'" She came to a stop at the edge of the fortress' boundary, turning back to regard the Wardens coolly before continuing, "And now you disturb ashes none have touched for so long. Why is that?"

"_Don't_ answer her." Alistair said close to Lilith's ear, keeping his voice low, "She looks Chasind, and that means others may be nearby."

"Oooh, you fear barbarians will _swoop down _upon you?" The woman mocked, accentuating her words with a flourishing motion of her arms.

"Yes, swooping is bad." Alistair returned dryly, his usual humour turned to ice.

"She's a Witch of the Wilds, she is! She'll turn us into toads!" Daveth all but shouted, making himself the target of the stranger's ire.

"Witch of the Wilds," the woman in question repeated slowly, incredulously, "Such idle fancies, those legends. Have you no minds of your own? You there," she turned her attention back onto Lilith once more, "women do not frighten like little boys." She spat the word out, her tone immediately turning softer, more pliable when she continued, "Tell me your name and I shall tell you mine."

"I am Lilith." She replied without hesitating, the rules of her upbringing dictating her actions as she inclined her head in greeting. "It is a pleasure to meet you."

"Now that _is_ a proper civil greeting, even here in the Wilds." The woman's tone took on an almost condescending edge as she spoke, but the widening of her eyes suggested that the reply she received was not the one she had expected. "You may call me Morrigan."

"Shall I guess your purpose?" She continued conversationally, "You sought something in that chest, something that is... here no longer?"

"'_Here no longer_'?" Alistair piped up, his tone defensive, "You stole them, didn't you? You're... some kind of... sneaky... witch-thief!" He finished, pinning the woman, Morrigan, with an accusatory glare.

"How very eloquent." She replied crisply, "Tell me, how does one steal from dead men?"

"Quite easily, it seems." He deadpanned, "Those documents are Grey Warden property and I suggest you return them."

"I will not, for 'twas not I who removed them." Morrigan returned, her voice becoming defensive at Alistair's commanding tone, "Invoke a name that means nothing here any longer if you wish; I am not threatened."

"Then who removed them, Morrigan?" Lilith intervened, her voice level, trying to calm the situation before they lost their only source of knowledge regarding the treaties.

"'Twas my mother, in fact."

"Your mother?" Lilith asked, the simple question sounding more disbelieving than she had intended.

"Yes, my mother." Morrigan replied, irritated by the inane question, "Did you assume I spawned from a log?"

"A thieving, weird-talking log, perhaps." Alistair interjected.

"Not all in the Wilds are monsters. Flowers grow, as well as toads." She continued as if Alistair had never spoken, leaning against one of the crumbling pillars and staring wistfully into the tangled expanse of trees that stretched out as far as the eye could see. She stood then, abruptly straightening and resuming her original position before speaking. "If you wish, I will take you to my mother. 'Tis not far from here, and you may ask her for your papers, if you like." She finished with a non-committal shrug of her lithe shoulders.

Lilith turned to Alistair, silently asking his opinion. After all, it was he who had been tasked by Duncan to retrieve the treaties.

"We _should_ get those treaties," he replied to her unspoken question, "but, I dislike this... Morrigan's sudden appearance. It's too convenient."

"I do not meet many people here," Morrigan spoke, as if she were simply voicing her thoughts aloud, "are you all so mistrustful?"

"I don't think we have much choice," Lilith mused, turning back to her fellow Warden, "we need those treaties. Thus, we must go with her."

"She'll put us all in the pot, she will. Just you watch." Daveth warned, eyeing Morrigan sceptically.

"If the pot's warmer than this forest, it'll be a nice change." Jory spoke for the first time during their encounter.

"Follow me then, if it pleases you." Morrigan stated, before turning and striding into the woods.

The party shared a tentative glance, before following cautiously in the witch's wake.

_**A/N:**__ I know there are no Darkspawn before you meet the "dying soldier", but lets just call it artistic licence, haha. I thought the first fight in the Wilds might be a bit more compelling if it was against Darkspawn instead of a pack of wolves, so...yeah. Anyway, this chapter took A LOT of research, by which I mean trying to find videos of the sections therein on Youtube so I could get the dialogue right, and it really isn't easy to do when Youtube always dies once I've had it open for too long. When I finally got into the swing of writing it, I had to stop because I couldn't load any videos for the Morrigan section, which is endlessly irritating! Though not as much as typing out every line from that scene one by one and trying to put the video into words. And it gets even worse when nobody picked the dialogue option that I want and I can't remember what Morrigan said in return! This chapter really stressed me out in case you can't already tell, which is why I decided to cut it short and end it here. Well... it's one of the reasons. The other being that if I'd carried on to where I originally planned, it'd have probably gotten out of hand and I really wanted to get it posted as soon as possible! So, there you have it. The next half of this chapter will come in the _next _chapter, though when exactly that will be, I have absolutely no idea. I imagine it'll take a while, as I'll be using videos of the meeting with Flemeth for it and that'll be just as awkward as it was this time around. Anywho, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it. As always, please leave a review to let me know what you think!_


	10. Chapter 10

_**Summary:**__ What if there had been no Blight when Lilith Cousland joined the ranks of the Grey Wardens? How would she have coped with her new role and what relationships would she have forged when free of the pressure of saving the entire country?_

_**A/N:**__ I'm not even going to bother trying to come up with an excuse for not writing for so long – apparently I'm just terrible at organisation. But, I re-read the last chapter of this story yesterday and it made me think that maybe it was about time to try and make myself write another, because I'd forgotten how much I liked it, even though I actually like it slightly less than when I started. Oh well, here goes. Thanks again to anybody and everybody who reads this, but super, extra special thank you's to anyone who has actually been reading from the beginning and will give this story (and me) a second chance. On with the chapter!_

_**Disclaimer:**__ I do not own Dragon Age: Origins or any of its characters (just my Lilith Cousland) and receive no profit from this story._

Morrigan led the party through the trees until they reached a small clearing on the edge of one of the Wilds' many stagnant ponds. A large wooden shack, clearly the abode of the witch and her mother, stood off to the side, its rear wall embedded back into the forest, and next to a small fire in the centre of the dell stood an old woman dressed in peasant's clothing, peering curiously at the arriving group.

"Greetings, Mother." Morrigan began, approaching the woman in question, "I bring before you four Grey Wardens who-"

"I see them girl," The woman interjected harshly, "Hmm, much as I expected."

At this, Alistair scoffed disbelievingly, "Are we supposed to believe you were expecting us?"

"You are required to do nothing, least of all believe." She replied enigmatically, "Shut one's eyes tight or open one's arms wide… either way, one's a fool!"

"She's a witch, I tell you! We shouldn't be talking to her." Daveth piped up from the very back of the group, eyeing the woman nervously.

"Quiet, Daveth." Instructed Ser Jory, "If she's really a witch, do you want to make her mad?"

At this, the old woman's piercing gaze turned to the knight. "There's a smart lad." She spoke, her tone somewhat condescending, "Sadly irrelevant to the larger scheme of things, but it is not I who decides." She continued, an unnerving glint of withheld knowledge help deep within her eyes, "Believe what you will."

She stepped forward now, turning her attention to Lilith at the head of the group. "And what of you, the Lady Cousland?" She asked, a slight upturn to her lips as she watched Lilith's eyes widening in shock, "Does your woman's mind give you a different viewpoint? Or do you believe as these _boys_ do?"

"How do you know who I am?" Lilith demanded, feeling her hackles rise in defence at the gleam in the old woman's pale yellow eyes.

"My dear child," she replied, laughingly, "I know many things. To explain how I came to that knowledge would be tedious and I am not wont to waste time."

"This certainly feels like a waste of _our_ time." Mumbled Alistair under his breath.

She continued, ignoring the comment of the other Warden, "Speak then, girl. What say you?"

"I- I do not know what to believe." Lilith replied honestly.

"A statement that possesses more wisdom than it implies." The woman returned, approval lacing her tone, "Be always aware… or is it oblivious? I can never remember. So much about you is uncertain… and yet I believe. Do I? Why, it seems I do!" She finished, with a short cackle of laughter.

"If you know who I am, then you must know of my brother." Lilith started, seemingly disturbing the woman from her momentary musings, "Tell me, have you seen him?"

"Both Cousland heirs wandering about in these dark and dangerous forests? What strange times these are, indeed." The old woman replied wistfully.

"Please, have you seen or heard anything of him at all? He was leading a scouting party to search out the Darkspawn."

"I do not involve myself in the affairs of others, child. I am content with my life of seclusion. It is Morrigan," she now turned a disapproving eye onto her daughter, "who so enjoys looking in on civilisation, who listens to their silly tales. Oh, how she dances under the moon!" She laughed.

"They did not come to listen to your wild tales, Mother." Morrigan interjected, her tone one of exasperation.

"True, they came for their treaties, yes? And before you start barking," she continued, as she turned to her hut, "your precious seal wore off long ago. I have protected these."

"You… Oh, you protected them?" Alistair asked, as the scrolls were handed over.

"And why not?" The woman asked defensively, "I sensed they're usefulness had not yet expired and look how right I was. Take them to your Grey Wardens and tell them this Blight's threat is greater than they realise!"

"Thank you for returning them." Lilith said gratefully.

"Such manners." She replied, sounding shocked, "Always in the last place you look – like stockings! Oh, do not mind me." She continued with a laugh at the unusual stares she was receiving from the group, "You have what you came for. See your guests out, girl."

Morrigan turned to her mother disbelievingly before heaving a defeated sigh, "Oh, very well. I will show you out of the woods. Follow me."

As the group turned to follow Morrigan, Lilith heard the old woman call out to her.

"There is yet more upheaval to come in your life, child," She warned, her features once again set in seriousness, "You must overcome all adversity or perish… and the cost of that may be more than you realise."

Lilith watched with a sense of foreboding as the woman turned her back and retreated into her home. When she was gone from view, the Warden jogged to catch up with her party, coming to a stop next to Alistair at the head of the group.

"Well _that_ was strange." He spoke wryly, but his eyes conveyed concern as he looked sidelong at his companion.

"Indeed," Lilith returned, not wanting to think back over the encounter, "but we have the treaties now and that's all that matters."

"Yes, yes I suppose you're right." Alistair replied, though he still sounded sceptical.

xXx

Upon arriving back at Duncan's camp, the vials of blood were immediately handed over alongside the treaties before the Warden Commander was pulled to one side by Alistair.

Lilith used the barrel of water outside Duncan's tent to clean her equipment of the spawn's viscous ichor that had become splattered across all of her person, all the while keeping one eye on the conversation between her friend and their leader. From the worried glances that were being not-so-subtly thrown in her direction, she knew that their topic would be her admittedly confusing episodes in the Wilds, but she found herself wishing that Alistair hadn't made such a fuss. Once she had decided to embrace the foreign feeling instead of fighting it, she had felt a calm clarity befall her and surely that could only be a useful state to achieve in battle.

As she finished wiping down her blades, she saw Duncan approaching her, his features, already somewhat haggard with what one could only assume was years of stress as Commander of the Grey, creased with concern. Despite this, his voice was light and calm when he spoke.

"Alistair has informed me of your reaction to the Darkspawn's presence," he began and held up a hand to prevent any interruption Lilith would try to make, "and while it is certainly unusual, I can assure you that there is no need to be concerned. I will, however, ask you to spend some time with my Second in the morning; he can help you to focus your mind when the creatures are near so that you will be in no danger of being overcome by the sensation."

"Yes, of course, Duncan." Lilith replied, surprised into instant obedience by his composed reaction after the much more frantic one of Alistair.

"Very well. I have had the circle mages preparing. With the blood you've retrieved we can begin the Joining ritual immediately."

"Shouldn't we be allowed to know what this ritual entails?" Ser Jory asked, stepping forward with Daveth.

"I will not lie." Duncan began gravely, turning his attention to the recruits, "We Grey Wardens pay a heavy price to become what we are. Fate may decree that you pay your price now, rather than later."

"What… What does that mean?" The knight interjected again, his countenance turning paler by the second.

"I can say no more at the moment; we should begin. Lilith," he turned his attention to her once again, "I will need to you to accompany our recruits to the old temple."

Lilith nodded her assent, beckoning to the two men to follow her.

xXx

The sun was beginning to set, streaking the sky in brilliant shades of pink, orange and yellow, when the group of three ascended the stairs to the old temple.

"The more I hear about this Joining, the less I like it." Ser Jory stated to no-one in particular.

"Are you blubbering again?" Daveth asked, frustration creeping into his tone at the knight's complaints.

"Why all these damn tests? Have I not earned my place?"

"Maybe it's tradition, maybe they're just trying to _annoy_ you." The thief replied, clearly hoping he could shut the other up.

"Calm down." Lilith interposed, "Worrying about this won't help anyone."

"Yeah, Ser Knight. Try not to wet your trousers before the ritual even starts." Daveth sneered.

At this, Jory seemed to turn defensive. "I have just never engaged a foe I could not face with my blade." He said, turning to Lilith as though to explain his fear.

"I understand, Ser Jory." She conceded, reasonably, "But there is nothing to be done for it now."

She was glad to finally see Duncan approaching, not sure how to reassure the nervous knight when all she could remember of her own ritual was pain and hellish nightmares.

"At last, we come to the Joining." Duncan began and Lilith stepped back as he explained the ritual to the two men and how it is that the Wardens gain their unnatural powers in fighting the spawn.

"We speak only a few words prior to the Joining, but these words have been said since the first. Lilith," she looked up at the mention of her name, "if you would."

She nodded her acquiescence, remembering the words from her own Joining, when they were spoken by a solemn and nervous-looking Alistair.

"Join us, brothers and sisters." She began, bowing her head as if in prayer, "Join us in the shadows, where we stand vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be foresworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten and that one day, we shall join you."

"Daveth, step forward." Duncan instructed, retrieving the large chalice from the table behind him.

Lilith watched as the thief took the goblet from Duncan without trepidation, feeling that she had perhaps misjudged this man who faced a possible death without fear. Daveth returned the empty cup to Duncan's waiting hands, a moment of stillness passing before an agonised groan was ripped from the man's throat, piercing the silence. He stumbled backwards, revealing the stark white of his rolled back eyes to Lilith and Ser Jory, and the young Warden couldn't help the gasp of dismay that escaped through her lips. The knight beside her turned upon hearing the noise and the sight of her horror seemed to increase his own ten-fold, but Lilith didn't notice, couldn't possibly tear her eyes away from the scene in front of her no matter how much she wished to. She watched, rapt, as Daveth fell to his knees, still screaming as he clutched his throat, before he simply turned limp, slumped onto the floor and was still.

"I am sorry, Daveth." Duncan spoke, looking down upon the man's body before turning his cold gaze onto Ser Jory and summoning him in turn.

Lilith watched, feeling detached from herself, as the knight took a few faltering steps backwards, away from both Duncan and the unmoving form of his fellow recruit. His eyes kept flitting back to Lilith's face, to the abject horror that was still etched there and the shining tears threatening to fall, as though hoping her fear would vindicate his own, but the Warden Commander matched him step for step, ignoring his excuses and pleas. Lilith continued watching, frozen until she saw Duncan draw his weapon. She squeezed her eyes closed as tight as she could, hearing the clash of steel on steel before the unmistakeable sound of flesh being pierced and a pained grunt was issued forth. The young noble turned on her heel and ran, the only things registering in her mind her own racing heartbeat and the almost sorrowful mutter of 'I'm sorry'.

xXx

Alistair was dismayed when he learnt what had unfolded at Daveth and Ser Jory's Joining, but for how horrible such a loss was, he couldn't help but be more concerned about Lilith and how she was faring after having witnessed it first hand. Duncan, knowing well of the friendship that had formed between the two and being concerned himself, had relayed her reaction to Alistair and so the blonde set about trying to find her, which wasn't nearly as difficult as the last time she had disappeared.

He went first to the corner of Ostagar that had been given to the Wardens to set up camp, seeking out her tent, and was both relieved and troubled to hear the quiet weeping coming from within. Ignoring the gentlemanly part of his brain that told him it was rude, he brushed his way through the tent-flaps without invitation and was greeted by the sight of Lilith hunched over on the edge of her cot, her face buried in Max's neck as his fur muffled the sobs that wracked her thin body. Watching her for a moment, Alistair couldn't help but think how small and young she looked, clutching her hound to her like a child with a stuffed toy.

The mabari noticed his entrance, his soft, almost comforting whines caused by his mistress' distress turning to a growl of displeasure as he bared his teeth at the intruder, ready to fight off anyone who would try to harm her while she was vulnerable. The change prompted Lilith to lift her head in question, finally allowing her to notice Alistair standing at the entrance to her tent, granting her a look of such pity that she almost wanted to throw up her defences. But as much as she wished she could hide her vulnerability, especially as she was to join a battle in less than twenty-four hours, she couldn't bring herself to push her friend away. She brushed her hand down Max's neck a few times, soothing him and telling him that she was safe, before giving a strained, wobbly smile to Alistair that was supposed to be reassuring. From his reaction, she couldn't help but think that she must have fell a mile short of her target, as her friend rushed to sit next to her on the cot and pull her into a comforting embrace.

At this small gesture, Lilith's sobs redoubled, but Alistair was determined to let her spend her anguish in tears against his chest if that was what she needed and he was vindicated when he felt her hands clutching into tight fists in the rough material of his shirt.

They stayed locked in the other's embrace for some time, until Lilith's body was no longer shaking with the force of her sobbing and her tears turned only to the occasional sniffle. She pulled back from the circle of Alistair's arms, feeling mortified when she spotted the damp patch she had left behind on his shirt and mumbling an apology to the floor by their feet.

"I shouldn't have gotten so upset." She spoke quietly, her voice coming out rough and shaky, "When it was my own Joining, I just- I didn't realise." She continued, turning wide eyes up to her friend as she tried and failed to find the words to explain. "And I've seen so much death." She dropped her gaze back down, now speaking almost to herself.

She startled when she felt warm, calloused fingertips pushing her hair out of her still-damp eyes and brushing it behind her ear. She smiled at the small act of comfort, remembering when her father had done the same after she had fell down and scraped her knee and how it was only then that she had been able to stop her tears. But instead of pulling his hand away, Alistair let it rest against the side of her face, using his thumb to wipe away the remnants of wetness against her cheekbones. She glanced up into her friend's warm amber eyes in surprise, before bringing her left hand up to clutch at his right in silent thanks. Their hands dropped to the space between them, still entwined.

"Are you going to be alright?" Alistair spoke for the first time since finding her.

"Yes, I think so." She replied, although she knew she didn't sound very convincing. "Thank you… for everything, for being here for me." She finished, smiling genuinely.

"You're welcome." With this her friend stood up to leave, but just as his hand was slipping from her grasp, Lilith grabbed it tightly again.

"Would you…?" She started to ask in a small voice, not able to look the blonde in the eye, "I mean, well, could you possibly stay in here with me tonight? I don't really… want to be alone." She finished, feeling her cheeks turn hot with embarrassment.

Alistair gave her fingers a reassuring squeeze, prompting her to look back into his face to see him smiling brightly. "Of course, whatever you need. I'll just see if I can find a spare bedroll from somewhere." And with that he disappeared back out through the tent flaps.

xXx

Alistair returned some time later, grumbling to himself about how difficult it was to find a bedroll in a camp full of soldiers sleeping rough, to the sight of Lilith already fast asleep on her cot, Max curled up by her feet and snoring lightly. He blushed a little when he realised that she was still using his old shirt as night clothes, noticing how the overlarge collar had slipped down to reveal the line of one lithe shoulder, and contemplated leaving for his own tent. However, he decided against it, feeling like it would be a betrayal to leave her alone after he promised to come back, even if she was already out for the count and wouldn't notice, and so he quietly came around to the side of the bed, placed the roll on the floor and, before settling in for the night, placed a feather light kiss on Lilith's cheek.

_**A/N:**__ Okay, so there was actually a lot more dialogue in this chapter that was taken straight from the game than I had thought there'd be. I hope that doesn't bother anyone and thanks so much for reading!_


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